


Coming Home

by cato_universe



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Background HankCon - Freeform, Comfort/Angst, Connor is an annoying older brother, F/F, Female Gavin Reed, Female Upgraded Connor | RK900, First Kiss, Genderswap, Getting Together, Gwen Reed, Gwen has issues with the patriarchy, Happy Ending, Nines has a panic attack in later chapters, Nines is clueless, but also thirsty, but it gets intense at the end, misogynistic comments, no beta we die like men, pseudo case fic, soft Nines to compensate, stoic Nines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cato_universe/pseuds/cato_universe
Summary: After Nines catches detective Reed singing in the rooftop, she can’t get the woman out of her mind.orGwen Reed is like a cat. Independent, stubborn, known to retreat to high places at any given time. All things considered, she should be no more than Nines’ infuriating working partner. Then why does Nines find the woman so fascinating?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so, this is not an all female AU. I’ve only gender swapped Nines and Gavin mostly because I’m lazy and bad with names and I’m sure as hell not finding names for Connor and Hank and EVERYONE. Because have you noticed the gender ratio??? It’s only North and Kara (and Chloe, I guess) that are female??? Like, what’s up with that??? So yeah, anyway. Whatever. Here you go an AU where only Gavin and Nines are female, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nines meets her new partner and witnesses something unexpected.

Nines first meets the detective, anticlimactically, in a hallway.  
  
It’s her first day in the precinct and Connor — with more enthusiasm than Nines thinks the situation merits— had offered to show her around. Nines, of course, agreed. She might be the upgraded model, but he’s been alive longer and has made a place of his own amongst the humans. It is the logical choice.  
  
It doesn’t take her more than five minutes to regret it.  
  
When Nines arrives to the precinct, exactly on time in her pristine black and white uniform, Connor _parades_ her all over the office. There is no other word for it. Connor goes out of his way to find all the humans and introduce her, answering questions and exchanging jokes of her being his _little sister_.  
  
The humans take one look at Nines’ stoic, hard face and cower. She doesn’t expect any less, but each time it happens something tightness more and more around her thirium pump. Unthinkingly, Nines initiates a system scan that comes up clean.  
  
Of course.  
  
In the months she’s been deviant she’s become achingly familiar with these odd instabilities that feel almost physical. She hates them, but as Connor assures her they are normal, there is nothing she can do but ignore them and endure.  
  
This time, however, it doesn’t take Nines long to recognize the system instability the human’s laughter cause within her as irritation. She sees their wary eyes, hears their fake laughter, and Nines feels an impatience with Connor she doesn’t know how to control other than remaining silent.  
  
It’s not that she dislikes Connor. He’s been kind to her, has been overtly helpful in aiding her navigate her deviancy. If pressed, Nines might even admit she might be—fond of him, in her own way. But, she thinks as she strides behind him, watching him go around like an overexcited puppy, he can also be very _annoying_.  
  
So she’s trying her level best to be patient as she follows Connor around (pettily satisfied that she’s  taller than him so he has to look up to her), when her sensors first catch the sound of whistling.  
  
A woman coming towards them from the other side of the hallway is the source of the sound. Wearing a leather jacket over a hoodie, she looks too informal to work in the precinct, but the badge clipped to her waist identifies her as a detective. She is holding a lidded cup of coffee in one hand —Nines’ protocols pull up the brand immediately— and what seems to be a case file on the other.  
  
The woman doesn’t look up from her file as she approaches, and Nines prepares for Connor to stop her and engage her. When she’s near enough Nines notices a scar across the woman’s nose and sets it as an identifying feature in her memory files, as she has been doing with everyone Connor introduces her to.  
  
Except Connor doesn’t engage her. He walks straight past the woman without acknowledging her, and she appears to be so concentrated on whatever she’s reading —if the scowl in her face is anything to go by— that her shoulder catches Nines’ own as she distractedly walks past them.  
  
The whistling immediately stops.  
  
“What the fuck? Watch where you’re going!” the woman snaps, looking up for the first time. There is a second of unguarded surprise as her eyes meet Nines’ before jumping to her LED and then to Connor.  
  
Nines watches, fascinated, at the change that takes place before her. Because at the sight of her predecessor, the woman’s whole body language changes from neutral to outright aggressive. Her eyes narrow, her grip tightness around both objects in her hands, and she redistributes her weight, aligns her knees, tenses.  
  
“Figures it’d be you, plastic prick,” she snarls to Connor.  
  
“Detective Reed,” Connor answers, voice carefully neutral. Nines would love to turn and analyze him, but she cannot tear her eyes away from the woman and the display of distaste on her face.  
  
“Urgh,” she groans, rolls her eyes as if she is not projecting enormous amounts of hostile energy. “I’m to busy for this shit. Just fuck off!”  
  
And she turns around and leaves, leaving both Connor and Nines staring after her, the later wondering what the hell just happened.  
  
“That was Detective Reed,” Connor explains, and if Nines hadn’t already been curious about the woman, she would have been just by the way Connor’s friendliness had suddenly vanished. “She’s not very, ah, fond of androids. I’d advise you to keep out of her way.”  
  
Which explains absolutely nothing, because a person doesn’t display that level of aggression out of nowhere. However, because Nines is an investigative unit after all, she bids her time. Connor relaxes when she doesn’t press him for details, but even as she follows and he becomes cheerful once again, she is already planning how to find out the truth of what happened between her predecessor and this strange detective that had piqued her interest.

 

* * *

  
It turns out Nines doesn’t need to wait long for an opportunity.  
  
When Nines is called into Captain Fowler’s office, Detective Reed is already there, siting before the Captain’s desk, one foot tapping the floor and vibrating with barely contained anger.  
  
They are assigned together, or rather, Nines is assigned to Detective Reed, and the woman scowls the whole time Captain Fowler talks but doesn’t say a single word either way.  
  
Still, she storms out of the man’s office when he gives them leave and the only reason the door doesn’t slam shut behind her is because Nines catches it just in time to close it softly.  
  
Nines finds Detective Reed at her desk, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Suddenly, the android is aware the precinct is oddly subdued, and realizes it must be because everyone knows they have been assigned together and are waiting for the spectacle of whatever the detective’s reaction to her is going to be.  
  
Nines narrows her eyes and looks around, once, and suddenly everyone is busy again, the subtly subdued sounds of the precinct taking over once again as everyone hurries to return to their duties.  
  
“Of course this would happen to me,” Detective Reed mumbles under her breath, unaware of the interaction. She takes a couple more seconds to pull herself together, and when she looks up to Nines her eyes are bright with stubborn determination. “Okay, we’re doing this shit, so listen up tin can. I don’t care about whatever the fuck is programmed into you. As far as I know you are a rookie —god, I’ve been assigned a rookie— with zero experience, so I expect you to defer to me on this, understand? None of that smarmy bullshit you guys constantly pull. You need to tell me what you find, and we need to work on this _together_. Toe the line and I will get you kicked out this quick,” she concludes, snapping her fingers on Nines’ face. “Understand?”  
  
The android looks at the woman down her nose in silence while she gives the detective’s words serious consideration. Beneath the hostility, that would have disconcerted her had she not been witness of the woman’s earlier reaction to Connor, what the detectives says is sound. Although it is  condescending of her to dismiss Nines a “rookie” —she is, after all, the peak of CyberLife achievements on investigative androids— Nines is not arrogant enough not to understand how they could benefit from each other: she from Detective Reed’s experience and the woman from Nines’ knowledge.  
  
As for working together…Nines wonders where did the woman get the impression Nines would not.  
  
Nines, however, does not voice any of these thoughts. Gravely, she nods in acknowledgment of the detective’s words and says, simply, “Understood, detective.”  
  
The detective stares at Nines with mistrust, searching for something in her face. However, whatever she finds seems to satisfy her, because she deflates a little and sits back in her chair, some tension bleeding from her shoulders.  
  
“Okay then,” she accepts, and then proceeds to debrief Nines on their case. “And call me Gwen. I’m sick of that fake sucking-up-to-me thing.”

 

* * *

 

  
By the fifth time Detective Reed is missing from her desk, Nines is at the end of her rope.  
  
She had been naively hopeful, perhaps, in that she would find a way to work with Detective Reed. As things stand, however, Nines cannot help help but think that working with this woman is, like the idiom depicts, like herding cats.  
  
Detective Reed is foul mouthed, hot tempered and so goddam stubborn that Nines is certain she does it just to personally aggravate her. She doesn’t listen to Nines’ advice, goes by hunches she doesn’t either share or explain, never backs up from a fight, and in general is so overwhelmingly infuriating that by the end of the week Nines is very seriously reconsidering her life choices.  
  
“Yeah, that’s Reed all right,” chuckles Hank between bites of hamburger. “Never kept a partner for long. Driven many a grown man to tears.” However, he tilts his head, thoughtfully watching Nines. “However, I’d say she’s pulling her punches with you. Must like you or something.”  
  
Had it not been above her dignity, Nines would have scoffed.  
  
“I assure you, Lieutenant, that Detective Reed does not like me.”  
  
“Yes, well,” Hank shrugs. “She hasn’t tried to punch you. I’d take that as a good sign.”  
  
That is the conversation Nines recalls when she finally gives into her exasperation and stands from her own desk to look for the detective. Not that it helps her. By now she has subdued the desire to shake the infuriating woman so many times that Nines thinks it’s incredibly commendable of her that she has not exploded under the strain.  
  
The android looks for the detective in all the usual places —the break room, the locker room, the restroom— and every minute she cannot find her something hot, an ugly sort of pressure, builds in her chest until she feels it burning.  
  
Anger.  
  
For the first time in her life, Nines is angry.  
  
Nines is…trying. Even now she remembers Markus’ kind eyes telling her how she doesn’t need to leave New Jericho, how she doesn’t need to return to the police no matter what she was made for. She remembers the suspicious stares of the other androids, Connor’s pity, and she cannot stand it. She cannot bear the thought of being their burden, of coming back to them a failure unable to make her partnership with a human go well. No, she hadn’t belonged with them, but _this_ — she knows she can do this, if only she can make it work.  
  
She _will_ make it work, Nines vows to herself, and no stubborn human will get in the way of her mission.  
  
So by the time Nines finally pulls out all stops and tracks the woman to the rooftop of the precinct, she feels so pent up with directionless emotion that she’s itching for the fight the detective seems to have been angling for since the beginning.  
  
Nines hand is already turning the door handle —and the android is really contemplating being immature and just kick it open— when she hears it.  
  
A gentle voice filters through the ugly metal door, and it’s so unexpected that for a moment Nines completely stops, thrown out of balance.  
  
Singing.  
  
Whoever is on the other side of the door is singing.  
  
Curiosity threading itself through her anger like a cool silver thread, Nines opens the door to the roof slowly, hoping to catch the singer unawares. And there, leaning carelessly against the veranda, a spent cigarette between her fingers, Detective Reed is looking at the horizon, hair mussed by the wind.  
  
_Morning star lights the way_  
_restless dream all done._  
_Shadows gone, break of day_  
_real life jus’ begun._  
  
The evening is quiet. As if in a cocoon, the sounds of the city are muffled around Nines, the wind a gentle caress against her face. Although the Detroit PD building is not very tall, it has a good view of the city and the sunset. With no taller buildings surrounding them, the rooftop gives a sense of space, of openness. The twilight paints the sky in gold and red and Nines stops, breathless. Until now, the sunset has never been for her anything more than a mark of passing time, another day that she has managed to navigate. But this— she feels suddenly small, humbled, stunned by the vastness of the sky, by the gentle solemnity of the sun sinking like a huge golden ball behind the horizon.  
  
_There’s no break, ain’t no end_  
_jus’ a livin’ on_  
_wide awake with a smile_  
_going on and on._  
  
Slowly, Nines’ anger melts away under the sound. The detective’s voice is high and clear, and she sings unselfconsciously, hitting high and low notes with the confidence of someone practiced at it. Standing against the setting sun, the woman is all golden life and fire, shining with something otherworldly, something beautiful Nines cannot look away from.  
  
And she looks at peace.  
  
For the first time in the brief week Nines has known the woman, she’s not frowning. There is nothing of the usual defensiveness left in her as she sings, as if the music bleeds away her anger and aggression and Nines is, for the first time, seeing the woman beneath all that.  
  
The android cannot move, held in place by the spell of the detective’s voice.  
  
_Going home, going home_  
_I’m jus’ going home_  
_it’s not far, yes close by_  
_through an open door._  
  
It’s only when the song ends and the subtle sounds of the city envelop them once more that the android is aware of herself again. She takes a breath she doesn’t need, and the sound must be louder than she intends because the detective flinches and zooms in on Nines in an instant.  
  
“Jesus fuck, Nines!” she snaps, raising a hand to her chest when she catches sight of the android. “Say something if you’re there, don’t just stand in silence like a creep!”  
  
In her temple, Nines LED shines golden like the sun. “Detective…you…”  
  
Nines’ lack of articulation seems to amuse Gwen because she smirks, the gesture almost a smile, and Nines cannot help but notice the woman does not seem embarrassed in the least. “What, did my beautiful voice make you fall for me?”  
  
Something flutters in Nines’ chest, and everything is so unexpected that her LED goes straight to red.  
  
Gwen sighs.  
  
“It’s a joke, tin can,” she explains, tired, the smirk falling right off her face. The sun finishes setting, and like a blanket being draped over them the red and golden light changes to deep blue and purple. Something Nines does not understand fades together with the golden light, and, wildly, she wishes to return to that delicate moment of just seconds before, to grasp and analyze and find out what exactly it was that made this woman look carefree and happy, so unlike the image she projects of herself the rest of the time.  
  
“You’ve come to fetch me, I guess. For fucks’ sake. As if I need a damned babysitter,” Gwen grumbles, putting her cigarette out on the metal handrail that surrounds the edge of the rooftop. “Come on then.”  
  
Nines blinks. It takes her a couple of seconds to subdue her LED back to blue, a couple more to rearrange processes and dismiss this strange instability that makes her fixated on the image of the detective’s chestnut hair in the wind, on the slow cadence of her voice.  
  
However, even after after she follows Gwen inside, anger forgotten, it’s like the afterimage of the detective carelessly leaning against the rail is burned into her eyelids, ready to tease Nines whenever she hasn’t enough sense to keep her mind busy.  
  
If she, in the darkness of her cramped flat, tries and fails more than once to sing the same song as detective Reed, no one but the empty walls are there to witness it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen: *does something mildly interesting or unexpected*  
> Nines: *LED red* I'm not having feelings. I don't feel. I am an unfeeling machine, this is nothing, I am--
> 
> That's it. That's this fic.
> 
> Also, you can hear Gwen's song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJFhTb1gi6Y).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gwen bitches but defends Nines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are misogynistic comments from some asshole in this chapter, and some gendered agression directed a Nines. She deals with it swiftly because she's an android, but if you're triggered by that sort of thing, then beware.

The days afterwards, Nines thinks about the moment in the rooftop more than she thinks it’s appropriate.  
  
It is like something very subtle changes after that, because Gwen, although as stubborn and infuriating as usual, is a bit more ready to listen to Nines. Also, Nines doesn’t think it’s her imagination that Gwen seems to be paying slightly more attention to her either, but as she has no point of comparison, she cannot be sure.  
  
However, it’s not nearly enough for Nines. Gwen still does things her own way, doesn’t seem to trust her. And Nines sees the way Lieutenant Anderson listens to Connor, the way the man freely lavishes praise and approval unto his partner, and she feels an odd sense of longing want directed towards her detective.  
  
In perspective, that’s what makes her mess up.  
  
The morning she shows with a cup of the coffee Gwen favors, Nines thinks nothing of it except it’s a good start. Gwen has showed a marked preference for drinking coffee mid-morning, so she thinks the gesture is perfect to ingratiate herself to the detective and improve their work relationship.  
  
When Nines places the cup of Gwen’s favorite coffee on the desk, she has only to take one look at the woman’s face to know she has made a mistake.  
  
Although Nines would never dare describe the detective as a calm woman —she’s too explosive and belligerent for that— she knows she has never really seen Gwen angry until this very moment.  
  
Her whole expression twists in a muted snarl before going carefully tight, but the fury in her eyes is clear when she stands from her desk. In her anger, Detective Reed is deathly pale, and her movements are graceful, more controlled than usual. She looks dangerous, and Nines would take a step back if only she’d understand what she’d done to summon such anger.  
  
“Come with me,” the detective commands through gritted teeth. She turns around without waiting to see if Nines follows, and walks with long strides into the break room, cup of coffee in hand.  
  
Around her, the precinct is as usual. As Nines looks around, trying to buy herself some seconds to process, all the officers and detectives are working, no one having paid attention to the small drama that feels so momentous to the android.  
  
When Nines follows into the empty break room, Gwen is already waiting for her. She makes eye contact with the android as she very deliberately takes off the lid of the coffee and pours it down the drain with shaking hands.  
  
Nines’ LED goes red.  
  
Gwen is on Nines’ face in two strides, crushing the empty cup to the android’s chest. Her fury is unmistakable, but her voice is low when she speaks.  
  
“Do not ever, ever, do that again,” Gwen hisses. “Not for me. Not for anyone. Get it?”  
  
“I—“  
  
“Do. You. Understand?”  
  
Nines nods, mutely, and Gwen’s jaw tightens. This close Nines can see that her grey eyes have green flecks to them, and she files the information for further analysis. Something flickers in Gwen’s face at the scrutiny. She licks her lips and looks like she wants to say something else, but the sound of steps give away someone coming into the room makes her pull away. Scowling, Gwen walks past Nines without looking back, bumping her shoulder like the first time they met in the hallway in what feels an eternity ago.  
  
“Nines, are you alright?” Connor asks, because of course it’s Connor who interrupted them. “What was that about?”  
  
Nines briefly considers if sighing would help her before deciding against it. Resigned, she turns to Connor, and it’s only his earnestly worried expression that soothes the irritation she feels towards him. He is meddlesome, although he means well, but that doesn’t diminish her wish to hear what the detective almost said.  
  
“I crossed a boundary,” she explains, because that much is at least clear to her. What she really wants to know is why. Why buying Detective Reed a coffee triggered such an apparent disproportionate reaction?  
  
Connor frowns, dissatisfied with her answer. However, before he can question her further, Nines turns away and returns to her desk, making sure to deposit the crushed coffee cup in the trash.  
  
It’s not long until Nines finds the reason why.

 

* * *

  
  
A couple of cases come and go, and Nines is satisfied to confirm the suspicion that they make a good team. Gwen may be brash and proud, but Nines notices how accurate the detective’s intuition is, how good she is at reading people and getting information out of witnesses.  
  
So all in all, Nines thinks it’s a pity when they are pulled from homicide and are reassigned to the new android division led by Lieutenant Anderson and Connor.  
  
“That’s bullshit, Captain,” Gwen complains when Fowler pulls them into his office to inform them. She has her arms crossed over her chest and looks harassed, and Nines is fascinated to watch their interaction. While Gwen is obviously not hiding her displeasure, there’s respect in her voice, and apparently Fowler is not faced by her language. “We are doing just fine in homicide. Better, even, than half of the idiots you employ.”  
  
“It was not a request, Reed,” Fowler tells her, massaging his temple. “And it’s also not forever. If you have to know, there’s some pressure on us to solve this case quickly. Get it done and then you can return right back to homicide.”  
  
“So you’re putting us in the case because we’re that good, huh?” the woman teases, smile cocky. Fowler rolls his eyes and suddenly Gwen sobers. “I’m not working under Hank, though. I don’t care he got his head out of his ass, he’s been a drunk for the past three years.”  
  
“That’s though, then. He leads the unit. I guess you’ll have to deal.”  
  
“Captain—“  
  
“Detective.”  
  
Gwen grimaces, but some sort of unspoken communication goes between the humans because the woman finally averts her eyes and runs a hand through her neatly bound hair in frustration, pulling a couple of chestnut strands out of place.  
  
“Fuck, okay.”  
  
“Very graceful of you,” Fowler grumbles, and oddly, Gwen smiles at him. “Now get the fuck out of here, Reed, and get to work!”  
  
Gwen looks upwards as if asking for patience, but stands none the less. “Come on, tin can, you heard the Captain!”  
  
Nines is almost out of the door when Fowler stops her.  
  
“Nines?” he calls, and nods to her when he has her attention. “Good job so far. I expect you to have Reed’s back on this as well.”  
  
Nines back straightens, pleasure that feels disgusting running through her at the praise of the human, an automated response coded into her.  
  
“As if I fucking need it!” Gwen yells from outside the office and Nines relaxes again, a subtle smile on her lips.  
  
“I will, Captain,” she promises, and that has nothing to do with her programming.

 

* * *

   
  
The debriefing goes fairly well, but to say Gwen doesn’t get along with Lieutenant Anderson is an understatement.  
  
Sure, the woman doesn’t seem to get along with anyone. She tolerates Nines, and other than that she seems to be friends with Officer Chen and despise the rest of the department. However, as it usually goes with Gwen, Nines doesn’t know why the woman seems particularly vicious when it comes to Lieutenant Anderson and Connor, and she wonders.  
  
“God, that sucked,” Gwen complains when they leave the precinct toward the crime scene. “I hate those pricks.”  
  
Thinking back on the debriefing, Nines is of the opinion it could have been worse. Lieutenant Anderson, Nines is sure, had done his level best to keep it brief and to the point. There’s a new virus that seems to be spreading through androids that makes them violent, making their eyes glow red and eventually destroy themselves. It’s a messy case, as ugly as they come, and Gwen is civil and listens with concentration until Connor, not altogether innocently, suggests to them an angle from which to approach the investigation.  
  
“I don’t take orders from you, asshole,” Gwen had spat at him through gritted teeth.  
  
Nines, who had been keeping an eye on Gwen’s steadily rising stress levels, had thrown a warning glare in Connor’s direction when the other android had opened his mouth to retort.  
  
[ _You partner needs to behave better, Nines_. ] Connor had chided her through the wireless.  
  
[ _You need to stop antagonizing her._ ] Nines had shot back, fully aware of the shock on Connor’s side. [ _You are not her superior._ ]  
  
As they wait for a cab to come pick them up, Nines dismisses the memory. It still grates some part of her programming to disagree with Connor. He is, in his own way, as stubborn as Gwen is, but he is mistaken if he thinks Nines is not going to confront him when he’s in the wrong.  
  
“You hate most human beings, detective,” Nines informs Gwen, deadpan.  
  
To her surprise, Gwen actually chuckles at her remark. “Pfft. Yeah, I guess. There’s some that are alright.”  
  
“And androids?”  
  
Besides Nine, Gwen looks up, amused. Gwen is compact, light on her feet, and although she is neither tall nor short for a woman, Nines’ own height makes her seem almost small in comparison.  
  
“What?” Gwen grins. “Fishing for compliments, tin can?”  
  
“I would never dream of it.”  
  
Their conversation is interrupted by the arrival of their cab, and Gwen immediately busies herself with the input of their destination. This has been by far the most friendly exchange they have had since they have been assigned as partners, and thus Nines doesn’t wish to let it end so easily. However, her preconstruction software warns her of an increased possibility of failure should she engage the detective any further, so she remains silent.  
  
But Gwen, determined as usual to prove Nines wrong in all and every one of her deductions, asks out of nowhere, “So Connor’s sort of your brother, huh?”  
  
_How unexpected_ , Nines thinks, pleasant surprise curling in her chest like a small flame. The detective had been steadily staring out of the window with an unusual thoughtful expression, but Nines had not believed for a second the woman would direct her attention to her.  
  
Nines leans back on the back seat of the car, crosses her long legs, LED blinking amber as she considers Gwen’s question.  
  
_Is_ Connor her brother? Nines wonders. Androids don’t have families. They don’t belong anywhere other than where they can best execute what they were programmed for. After the Revolution, not even there. And Connor…Connor is Nines’ predecessor, the base of what she is, but what does that make him?  
  
She doesn’t know, she realizes. She doesn’t know what Connor is of her.  
  
“He is, ah, well meaning,” Nines answers instead. She’s aware she’s avoiding the detective’s inquiry, but there had been some commiseration in Gwen’s question and that’s what Nines reacts to. She feels oddly defensive on Connor’s behalf, just as she had felt when it was him antagonizing Gwen in the precinct.  
  
“Sure,” Gwen shrugs carelessly, unaware of all the inner conflict her question has caused her companion. “Most men are. They still are dicks, though.”  
  
The sharp curiosity Nines feels when faced with this woman surges up again and she latches onto it. There is much she wants to tell Gwen, not first of all how androids are just gender coded but do not fit neatly in the gender binary humans are so quick to adopt, but because she knows they are about to reach their destination, she asks what she must pressingly wants to know.  
  
“Do you dislike men, detective?”  
  
_That_ elicits a reaction.  
  
“Generally,” Gwen answers, head snapping in Nines’ direction. Her eyes are sharp and assessing as they analyze Nines, and the android cannot help but feel she has given away more with her question than the detective with her answer. “But I believe in disliking everyone equally, as you just said.”  
  
Nines’ next question is _why do you hate Connor so much?_ but unfortunately they are close to their destination and the prerecorded voice of the automated cab lets them know so. The detective straightens in her seat immediately, looking alert, and she changes into her professional persona like an actor between roles.  
  
Briefly, Nines thinks she regrets the change, but there’s not much time for the thought to take hold because the cab stops and then everything is about the case.

 

* * *

  
  
Nines wants to murder someone, and she would have never thought she’d reach the point in which the only reason she doesn’t is in deference to Detective Reed.  
  
When they exit the cab the detective strides into the crime scene with confidence, unfazed by the gruesome sight of the android ripped to pieces in the living-room, and takes charge with the confidence of someone practiced at it. So far, since they usually work by themselves, Nines has only seen Gwen do this a couple of times, usually to officers who know exactly what they are doing.  
  
This time, it’s a larger team that needs direction, and as soon as they step into the crime scene it is obvious no one is completely sure how to proceed. It’s depressing but understandable, Nines thinks, as android’s deaths have only very recently been categorized as murders, and thus the protocols for managing them have not been set in place for long.  
  
“What, Anderson too good to come himself that he had to send you?” someone mutters when Gwen and Nines enter the crime scene. There are a couple of sniggers, and Nines snaps into attention immediately, taken aback by the veiled insult but ready for a confrontation.  
  
She shouldn’t have bothered. Gwen only stops before her and speaks coldly but with authority, her usual temper nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Gentlemen. The Lieutenant has his own crap to deal with, so you will be stuck with me for the time being. The faster you get over it, the faster we get the fuck out of here,” Gwen declares to the room at large. She then proceeds to bark orders that are obeyed with diverse levels of reluctance. Nines frowns at this. “Now move! You too Nines, what are you waiting for?”  
  
This snaps everyone into action, Nines included, and in the rush of movement a clear distinct voice, low enough to be ignored but loud enough that everyone hears, calls from the back of the room:  
  
“ _Bitch_.”  
  
Nines’ LED blinks amber even as Gwen answers, voice low and deadly, “What was that, Mitchell?”  
  
The tension in the room is almost tangible. People stubbornly look down at their tasks, but everyone’s movements are sluggish, as if weighted down by the situation. Near the window, as if he hadn’t expected to be openly confronted, a man is gaping like a fish out of water, face turning an ugly shade of puce.  
  
“Nothing, detective,” he grits out. Even Nines can tell he’s more angry at being called out than sorry, but Gwen merely nods.  
  
“That’s what I thought, _officer_.”  
  
He goes about his task under Gwen’s watchful eye, and only when everyone is busy does she move. She looks outwardly cool, as if unbothered by what has happened, but because she’s an android Nines picks up the way the detective’s blood pressure has risen, sees her white knuckles and knows the woman will have little half moon indentations in her palms when she unclenches them.  
  
And Nines is— angry. She analyzes the crime scene efficiently, but she has enough capacity in her processors to keep a thread on her emotions. She feels angry in the detective’s behalf. Here and there she catches insulting whispers against the woman, instigated by Officer Mitchell, and if Nines does not react it is because she knows it will be more trouble for the detective if she does.  
  
But she wants to.  
  
Oh, she aches to.  
  
So she’s more than ready when the man in question saunters over her. There are another three individuals who have enabled him, and Nines scans them to take his names and badges’ numbers immediately.  
  
“So you’ve been assigned to Reed?” he sneers. His eyes sweep up and down Nines’ body, and although she doesn’t feel in the slightest threatened by this useless piece of human garbage, she knows the gesture by the insult it is. “Finally got herself a babysitter. Or maybe turned into an android fucker herself? Seems to have worked for Anderson. Figures she’d like androids, since there’s no man who’d take her.”  
  
The men behind him chuckle like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. The other officers within hearing range seem uncomfortable, but it’s noticeable to Nines that no one intervenes. She also notices that, incidentally, there are no women in the room.  
  
“I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself, officer, as insulting a superior is an offense and Detective Reed is in charge of this investigation.”  
  
Officer Mitchell grimaces and takes a menacing step towards Nines. He is not a short man, but Nines is still a good inch or two taller than him, and she looks at him down her nose like the worthless scum he is.  
  
“Look here you piece of plastic,” he begins, face contorting and turning that unflattering shade of red again. “You’re just an _android_. You’re not even a woman,” there is satisfaction in his anger, as if he has delivered a deadly insult. “So know your place and _go bring me a coffee_.”  
  
Several things happen at once. First, at the man’s words Nines flashes back to the morning she bought Gwen coffee ( _Do not_ ever _do that again!_ ) with an unexpected clarity. Second, the man raises a finger and pokes at Nines’ shoulder, and Nines knows this is the excuse she’s been looking for. Swiftly, she steps aside, and in a fluid motion grabs hold his hand and twists the man’s arm behind his back until he’s whimpering.  
  
“I also suggest you not touch me,” Nines states, and then the third thing that happens is she hears steps coming from the entrance as Gwen comes into the room looking like a fury.  
  
“Nines! What the _fuck_!”  
  
The android turns to Gwen, face impassive as it’s been all through the confrontation. She’s ready to defend her actions, but it turns out it’s unnecessary.  
  
“Mitchell, I will report you for this, don’t think I won’t! Assaulting an android merits a fucking hearing!” she spits. Something warm settles on Nines’ chest at seeing Gwen so worked up on her behalf. Still, because she doesn’t want Gwen to make a scene in front of all these people she lets go of Mitchell’s arm (who stumbles forwards with a whimper) and stands as to block the woman’s view of the miserable man.  
  
“I am perfectly alright, detective,” Nines soothes, placing her hands neatly behind her back. “Reporting Officer Mitchell for harassment will suffice. I will save the interaction in my memory files to serve as evidence.”  
  
Gwen’s lips press together until they are a bloodless pale line, but when she tears her eyes away form Mitchell, Nines knows she has successfully deescalated the situation.  
  
“Okay,” Gwen nods, tightly. “We are done here. Hopefully this will serve as example to whoever gets any more funny ideas.”

 

* * *

   
  
They ride back to the precinct in complete silence. Gwen looks tense and so wound up Nines decides it’s better not to push. Instead, she waits patiently, watching the woman work her jaw and clench and unclench her fists rhythmically.  
  
Fortunately, neither Lieutenant Anderson nor Connor are back in their desks, so nothing impedes Gwen from recovering something from one of the drawers of her own desk and dragging Nines to the roof.  
  
Once under the open sky, the woman’s shoulders drop. She plucks out a cigarette from the pack she has on her hand and places it on her lips before fumbling with the lighter. Nines watches Gwen try and fail to lit it a couple of times. High up as they are, it’s too windy for the flame to take, so Nines walks to Gwen and cups the woman’s warm hands into her own until the trembling flame is stable enough to light the cigarette.  
  
The detective takes a deep drag and slowly exhales the smoke to the side so it misses Nines.  
  
“I’m trying to quit,” she explains. “But not today.” They are standing very close, but to Nines’ surprise, Gwen doesn’t pull away. After a couple of heartbeats the woman looks up straight into Nines eyes, startling the android with her intensity. “You okay?”  
  
Nines’ only outward sign of confusion is a slow blink of her LED.  
  
“I am stronger than an average human, detective. Even a human male. If you are talking about Officer Mitchell, then yes. He could not possibly harm me.”  
  
“What did he say?”  
  
“I does not bear repeating. He will be dealt with accordingly to protocol.”  
  
Gwen hums, a sound between acceptance and annoyance.  
  
“You did well,” she says, resting a hand on Nines’ arm, and it’s so unlike what the android expects from the detective that her LED briefly flashes yellow. “Mitchell’s a dick. Give an inch and he will never respect you again, report him and you’re a bitch. You can never win.” She looks tired, but her touch, even through two layers of clothes, feels like a brand on Nines’ arm. “Damn, I thought being a woman in the force was bad, but being a female android must be the absolute worst. So I don’t know if you need it, but you have my full permission to kick his ass whenever. I’ll deal with Fowler.”  
  
They remain in comfortable silence for a while, Gwen smoking and Nines putting together the disjointed behaviors of the detective that were so baffling separately. Now, in the light of this experience, it makes much more sense as to the kind of person Gwen Reed must be to survive in such an environment.  
  
Distantly, Nines wonders how many times must Gwen have been told to bring coffee for her to react so strongly at Nines doing it.  
  
“You deal with that a lot, detective?” Nines muses aloud.  
  
Gwen laughs, but the sound holds no joy or humor.  
  
“I’m a fucking _cop_ , Nines. What do you think?”  
  
“Will you tell me about it?”  
  
Gwen takes a step back then, as if needing the space to assess Nines’ intentions, and the android deeply misses the warmth of her closeness.  
  
“Why?” she asks, baffled. “You will get to experience it soon enough,” and she sounds sad as she says it.  
  
“I—“ Nines struggles with what she wants to say. She is suddenly afraid to break this moment of honestly, their first true understanding, but she feels like if she lies now then all will be for nothing. “I want to know more about you,” she drops her eyes, unable to watch the woman’s reaction to her confession.  
  
But Gwen hums, like Nines has recently learnt she does when deep in thought.  
  
“Well, definitely not without at least one beer,” she answers. When Nines looks up, Gwen is grinning boyishly, and it makes her look free.  
  
Tentatively, Nines answers with a smile of her own. It feels stiff on her face, but at the same time it also feels good in a rebellious sort of way— she was made to hunt and kill, programmed in such a way that it made it nearly impossible for her to deviate. But here she is now, on a rooftop, and she can smile and think for herself, and feel... feel at peace.  
  
The loud ringtone of Gwen’s phone breaks the moment, and finally their little bubble bursts as once again they are dragged into the real world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nines has a revelation and Gwen is honest for once.
> 
> Or: In which Nines is thirsty but she doesn’t know what that is (yet).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm gonna be super upfront here: the first 2/3 of this chapter are fluff. Like super fluff. However, on the last 1/3 Gwen discusses her issues with patriarchy. Lightly, I believe, but there it is. The big wolf. Read at your own risk, you have been warned.

Things definitely change after that.  
  
They are not quite friends, but Gwen is less wary of Nines after their heart-to-heart in the rooftop. They banter more, something Nines learns Gwen enjoys. Nines also learns that her deadpan expression, as much as it confuses other humans, amuses Gwen. The first time she pulls a smile from Gwen with one bad attempt at humor, Nines feels a rush of achievement she has only so far felt related to her work.  
  
So Nines…watches. She cannot help herself. She watches Gwen move across the room, smile at Officer Chen, chew on her pens when concentrating. She watches Gwen drink her coffee without sugar, notes her preference for rice in her meals, listens to her hum under her breath when she thinks no one is listening. Nines is not very well versed in her emotions, but still she knows this fascination she feels for the detective is not quite appropriate, nor is the way she feels fluttery when the woman’s smile is directed at her, and wonders if perhaps something in her code is malfunctioning.  
  
However, soon the android case becomes so demanding, Nines has no time for much needed self-reflection.  
  
It’s an ugly thing. The virus keeps randomly killing androids without apparent reason or pattern. So far, they have only figured out the virus can only be transmitted through a sync, which is at least a relief of sorts, but getting clues as to the perpetrator is proving difficult.  
  
Programming an antivirus is also proving difficult to achieve, as the virus erases itself when it self-destructs. So as things stand the android community’s panic grows everyday, and the more days that pass, the more pressure is exerted upon Lieutenant Anderson’s team to find the perpetrator.  
  
Then, after a bad day in which the Lieutenant yells at Gwen for being reckless and following a lead that proves useless, when the woman storms out of the room Nines knows where to find her.  
  
Indeed, Gwen’s voice envelops Nines as she reaches for the handle of the door to the rooftop. The android silently opens it. This time Gwen is sitting on the flat end of the ventilation ducts that come out of the building. She has her eyes closed, so Nines takes the opportunity to close the door softly behind her and listen.  
  
“ _…when times get rough, and friends just can’t be found…_ ” Gwen stops, tilts her head without opening her eyes. “I know you’re there Nines, come the fuck out.”  
  
Disappointed, Nines steps forward.  
  
“Forgive me, detective. I did not intend to interrupt you.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever,” Gwen sighs. She places an unlit cigarette on her lips and finally opens her yes to look up into the dark sky. There’s a long silence. “Was there something you wanted, or are you here to babysit me?”  
  
“No, I—“ Nines’ LED blinks and she frowns as she thinks.  
  
It’s true that she’s not completely sure of what she wants. To offer comfort, perhaps, to check on Gwen’s well being. Lately Nines has found that she cares a lot about Gwen’s well being. Logical, she tells herself, seeing as how her partner’s continued physical and mental health will only benefit their performance as a team.  
  
Except there’s something wrong with that. Something that rings not quite true. An instability warning pops up on Nines HUB, but she ignores it for the time being. There is one other thing she knows she wants, a clear reason she has been hoping to find Gwen in the roof again.  
  
There is, perhaps, no good way to put into words what it is, but Gwen has always been receptive to the truth. And despite that, Nines feels strongly reluctant.  
  
_Shy_ , she realizes with a start. Gwen makes Nines feel shy.  
  
Immediately, she dismisses it as ridiculous. Nines has never felt shy in her life, why would the detective make her feel so?  
  
Yet again, why does the detective make her feel so many strange things?  
  
Gwen raises an eyebrow. “It was not a hard question, tin can.”  
  
“I was hoping to hear you sing again,” Nines blurts out. The words feel raw in the space between them, rough and ordinary although it is in essence what Nines had wanted to say.  
  
Gwen, blissfully unaware of Nines’ inner turmoil, stares at the android, face closed up as she measures the android’s words, searches for mockery in her expression.  
  
“What, you like music?” she asks in the end, neutral.  
  
“I do not know,” Nines answers, thirium pump beating faster. She is acutely aware that they have not talked about anything other than work since the day Gwen reported Mitchell, and that whatever Nines says will be, inevitably, personal. “I believe so?” When Gwen is silent, Nines offers, “But I do know I enjoy your singing voice. I have tried to sing myself, but I am afraid I was not programmed for it.”  
  
To prove it, Nines tries to sing the first few bars of the song she first heard Gwen sing —the one of the memory that still haunts her sometimes—, but the sounds that come out from Nines’ voice modulator are somewhat too mechanical. Her voice sounds stiff, more like an autotuned record than a song.  
  
When she finishes, feeling awkward, Gwen begins to laugh. It’s a nice sound, and even though Nines would like to feel affronted, the way the woman’s face contorts in joy is the most beautiful thing Nines has seen in her life, and another warning of instability pings loud and insistent in her sight at this realization.  
  
“Yeah, no shit,” Gwen chuckles, wiping her eyes. “Man, that’s the worst fucking singing I have heard in my life. Guess you androids are not perfect after all, huh?” Nines doesn’t answer, but Gwen grins at her, body finally loose and relaxed. “Okay then, tin can, it seems you’re in luck. I’m taking requests.”  
  
“The song I cannot sing,” Nines says immediately. “Is it not Dvořák?”  
  
“Mmm, you did your homework. Yeah. Going Home. You like that one?”  
  
Nines nods, and without fanfare Gwen sings it for her. This is a longer version of what Nines caught last time, but still feels entirely too short for the android’s taste. She stands like a statue for the duration of the song, in a rooftop under the cloudy sky, so taken with Gwen’s clear voice it’s as if the world has faded and there’s only the two of them.  
  
When Gwen finishes, there is a silence a bit too long.  
  
“What, no applause?” she teases.  
  
“Your voice is beautiful,” Nines says before she can stop herself, and she registers the shock and the beginnings of a blush in Gwen’s cheeks before the woman turns her head to hide it. Nines has the sudden urge to close the distance between them and grab the woman’s face so it’s not hidden. To see what the blush feels like under her fingers, and find out if it runs down the detective’s neck under her clothes.  
  
“It’s nothing special,” Gwen deflects. “There’s plenty of people better than me out there.” Nines begins to shake her head, but Gwen isn’t looking at her so she doesn’t notice. “So, anyway, anything else you’d like to hear?”  
  
Nines’ LED blinks red as she processes the question. “I do not know any other songs.”  
  
Gwen stares at her with eyes wide with horror, the cigarette hanging from her lips incredibly distracting.  
  
“Now that’s just pathetic,” she declares before smiling like a cat that caught a mouse. “We have to remedy that.”

 

* * *

  
  
They do, in stolen moments here and there.  
  
Whenever they are alone in a cab, or when Gwen is having her lunch break (and once through a dull stakeout), the woman pulls out her phone and has Nines listen to different kinds of music.  
  
As it turns out, Gwen’s taste in music is eclectic. She presents Nines with famous bands first, popular songs to scout what she might like. When the android is so taken with Bohemian Rhapsody she needs to listen to it five times in a row, Gwen laughs, sings along each time, and after it’s over declares, “All right, prog rock it is.”  
  
Nines is not to sure a single genre suits her tastes, but she likes to hear Gwen talk about music. The woman has opinions, but still has Nines listen to different generes like jazz and pop with the same impartial enthusiasm.  
  
And like a barrier has come down, Gwen becomes more physical. She constantly touches Nines when she talks— a hand on her arm to emphasize a point, a tap to get the android’s attention, a light swat on her shoulder when Nines is too “smarmy”. Nines is delighted by this development and relishes the contact, although she cannot bring herself to return it in kind.  
  
Instead, she communicates her approval in other ways. She stands a step closer to Gwen than strictly necessary, offers her hand to help the detective out whenever they take a cab, makes sure the woman always has in hand the gum she prefers instead of smoking a cigarette.  
  
Everyone in the precinct notices, although whenever someone gets close to commenting on it, Nines’ aloof demeanor and her glare quickly makes them think better about it.  
  
Except for Connor, of course, who is baffled beyond belief, and Lieutenant Anderson, who is not afraid of Nines.  
  
“ _Reed_ was your first exposure to music?” Hank nearly shouts when Nines carelessly tells him about her musical exploits after a debrief, and from across the meeting room Gwen cackles with glee.  
  
“Hell, yes. She had to learn from someone with good taste,” Gwen quips. This is the first time she has so much as smiled in Connor and Hank’s presence, so Nines is feeling quite pleased with herself.  
  
“That’d exclude you, Reed,” Hank answers in a growl, but he’s smiling.  
  
“That’s what _you_ ’d think, I know the crap you like. Nines, tell him what we were listening just now.”  
  
When Nines proceeds to discuss with authority the different merits of the diverse vocaloids and Hank splutters, Gwen laughs so hard she doubles over.  
  
“No, I’m done,” Hank announces, raising his arms in surrender. “It’s over. You’re dead to me, Reed.”  
  
“I knew your old man heart couldn’t take the good stuff.”  
  
“You are corrupting her!” Hank accuses.  
  
“You should not be so narrow minded, Lieutenant,” Nines intervenes. “Gwen assures me it is of utmost importance not to form biases prior to listening to music. Even the generes not considered high culture have artistic merit.”  
  
“Oh, man,” Gwen wheezes. She crosses the room to pat the android’s shoulder in approval. “Nines, you’re really something.” And the way she looks up at Nines, warm and fond and open, makes something hot run through Nines. It makes her want to get closer to this woman, to close the remaining distance between them and—  
  
_Oh_ , Nines thinks.  
  
The world shifts in its axis, crumbles and is born anew in a second, and through it all the only thing that grounds her are the grey eyes that hold her own through her new sudden understanding.  
  
_Oh._  
  
[ _Nines?_ ] Connor calls her through the wireless, and Nines flinches. In her chest, the beating of her thirium pump feels like the wings of a small bird, light and ready to fly away from her.  
  
“Nines?” Gwen echoes, concerned, and only now is Nines aware of the three pairs of eyes watching the fireworks that her LED has turned into.  
  
“But anyway, we should concentrate in the case,” Nines says, and is incredibly pleased her voice gives nothing away.  
  
Both Hank and Gwen look suspicious but press no further, and loathe as Nines is to break the moment of bonding, she doesn’t think she can deal with their concern at the moment.  
  
She doesn’t count on Connor, of course, cornering her after the humans leave the meeting room.  
  
“Nines, what was that?” he questions her. Out of habit, he offers his hand to her for a sync, but this time Nines clasps her hands behind her back well out of reach to refuse his overture.  
  
“Drop it, Connor.”  
  
“Your stress levels were over the roof,” he informs her. “Your LED was—“  
  
“I know what my LED was doing—“  
  
“That was an instability warning. If you’re having trouble—“  
  
“Drop it.”  
  
“I only want to help you,” Connor presses, extending a hand again, although thankfully it’s once again covered by his skin. “You know you can tell me—“  
  
“I said, _drop it_!” Nines shouts, physically rebuffing Connor’s hand. She regrets it as soon as she catches the hurt in his eyes. “Connor, I am very grateful for your concern, and I am very fond of you, but I do not need you to fuss over me like I am a child! Please give me some space.”  
  
Connor deflates immediately.  
  
“I did not mean…” he begins, but the sound of someone coming interrupts him.  
  
“Is everything okay here?” Gwen asks, voice tight, and of course it’s her. She’s tense again, frowning, far from the smiling person she was just minutes before. But the way she’s holding herself...  
  
Weight distributed evenly, hands loose at her sides, coiled into herself. Nines has seen her like this once before, readying herself for a confrontation, and she realizes Gwen must have heard the shouting and immediately assumed the worst about Connor.  
  
“We were—“  
  
“I was apologizing,” Connor tells Gwen, firmly. To Nines, he says, [ _Please forgive me. It was not my intention to pressure you, or treat you like a child. I…_ ] although they are not synching, some frustration comes through, surprising Nines. [ _I think I don’t know how to express that I care about your well being. Maybe I have not adapted to deviancy as well as I thought?_ ]  
  
Nines nods in acceptance, and because she’s keeping track of Gwen’s body language, she notices how some tension bleeds out of her body at the gesture.  
  
[ _Thank you, Connor. I…I believe I understand. Please rest assured I will come to you when and if I feel ready to share this._ ]  
  
“Thank you, Nines,” Connor says aloud. He looks so relieved that Nines almost feels guilty to have caused him distress.  
  
Gwen allows him to go without comment, but her gaze is searching when it lands on Nines.  
  
“He wasn’t lying, was he?” she asks, coming closer to Nines.  
  
“No, he—he crossed a boundary and I… asserted myself. Perhaps a bit more strongly than strictly necessary.”  
  
Gwen assesses Nines for a second longer, but in the end a lopsided grin breaks through. “Well, good for you,” words so full of approval that Nines can barely suppress a shiver.  
  
_I am in love with her_ , Nines marvels, full of wonder. _I am in love with Gwen Reed._  
  
“Thank you, detective,” she answers instead, subtly herding Gwen out of the meeting room. The woman falls into step easily with her, and although it’s usually the other way around, Nines cannot help but notice how natural it feels, how comfortable. “Also for, as the idiom says, having my back.”  
  
The tips of Gwen’s ears turn red at Nines words, and she averts her face to hide it.  
  
“Anytime,” she mumbles. “Anyway, you would’ve done the same for me.”  
  
“Yes,” Nines answer immediately, because this is not something she has to think about. When Gwen smiles, Nines thinks it worth it.  


* * *

  
  
They are, uncharacteristically, in a park when Nines finally dares to ask.  
  
She has been putting it off, she knows, but after Nines has had a little bit of time to mediate on her feelings —and among the chaos of the case it has not been easy— she decides it’s very uncomfortable to have the two people you most care about at odds with each other and not even know why, so she decides it’s time.  
  
Nines approaches Connor first.  
  
After the incident in the meeting room, Connor’s been more mindful of Nines’ boundaries, which she appreciates. He is delighted when she asks to talk to him after work, which lasts until she asks him about the reason behind the hostility between him and Gwen.  
  
Nines, until very recently, has considered Connor the better adjusted out of the two of them. He had lived longer than her, has better human-android social protocols, so it only made sense. He always seems so confident, cheerful, secure in his place beside Lieutenant Anderson. As of late, however, Nines has begun to glimpse a side of Connor she hadn’t suspected he had— one that makes mistakes, that is as uncertain of personal interactions as she is. Oddly, although this perhaps should make him off-putting, Nines finds she likes him all the more for it. She feels closer to him somehow, like they can share their problems instead of him patronizing her.  
  
Even so, it disconcerts her to see the way Connor so transparently expresses his emotions. Maybe because she can’t, she is not sure. Still, when at her question Connor averts his eyes and runs a hand through his hair —a human gesture he must have picked from the Lieutenant— it pains her to see the regret in the eyes of her predecessor.  
  
“I would ask you not to judge me very harshly, Nines,” Connor asks of her. “At the moment I felt I had no other choice. But I regret it. Not right then, of course, but later. I wish I could have done things differently.”  
  
They sync, and Connor shares his memories with Nines. She sees their first meeting in the interrogation room, Gwen snapping at Connor, Hank taking Connor’s side over Gwen. She sees insults at the precinct, at a crime scene. And finally, she sees Gwen confront Connor in the evidence room, watches as she pulls a gun on him, acuses him of stealing evidence. Connor tries to plead his case, to explain that he knows how to stop the deviants, but Gwen doesn’t listen. Instead, she answers _for all I know you’re a deviant yourself_ , and Nines feels Connor’s panic, his denial. Connor feels cornered, and when Gwen doesn’t back down, he does the only thing he can think of and incapacitates her.  
  
The sync ends, and Nines doesn’t need it to feel Connor’s distress.  
  
“Nines…” he pleads, unsure.  
  
Nines takes a step back because it’s too much to process at once. She wishes she could somehow soothe Connor, but she needs to think first. She had known something serious must have happened between them for Gwen to react so strongly to Connor, but as Nines thinks of that first time she met the woman in the hallway, Gwen’s aggression is suddenly thrown in a different light.  
  
“Thank you, Connor,” Nines tells him softly, “for sharing that with me.”  
  
So one late night, when Gwen goes to a street vendor to get a hamburger for dinner after a fruitless stakeout, Nines follows her and they end up sitting in a dark empty park, under the yellow halo of a street lamp, Gwen eating with enthusiasm and Nines looking down at the artificial pond that reflects the lights of the buildings around them.  
  
It’s a cold night. It’s the last day of summer, but already the chill of fall can be felt in the air. Not too cold yet to be uncomfortable, although Nines knows it’s not advisable she keeps Gwen outside for long.  
  
The android waits until the woman has finished her dinner to speak.  
  
“Gwen,” Nines says, and the use of her name makes the detective’s head snap up, suddenly alert. “May I ask you something personal?”  
  
“Shit, that sounds ominous,” Gwen answers, making a small ball of the burger wrapper and whipping her fingers on a napkin. “I almost want to say no.”  
  
Nines stares at her in silence until the woman rolls her eyes.  
  
“Really? _Okay_ , Nines. Ask away.”  
  
“Why do you dislike Connor and Lieutenant Anderson so much?”  
  
Gwen stills. She stares into mid-distance with blind eyes, mouth suddenly tight. Nines dislikes that expression on her, but she has already heard (or rather, seen) Connor’s version of the story and so she thinks only right she hears Gwen’s.  
  
Before the woman can decide one way or another, Nines pulls out a bottle from a brown paper bag and twists the cap open with a flick of her wrist. Gwen stares dumbly at Nines’ hands when the android offers the uncapped beer to her.  
  
“Wha—“ she begins.  
  
“You said you would not tell me—“  
  
“…without at least one beer,” Gwen finishes, and Nines is pleased she remembers. “You—where the fuck did you even get this from?”  
  
“The same place you got your dinner.”  
  
Very quietly, Gwen begins to laugh.  
  
“This was not at all what I meant by that, tin can,” she chuckles, but accepts the beer none the less and examines it under the yellow light of the lamp. “What a way to use my words against me, color me impressed. But a deal is a deal, I guess,” she takes a slow drag of the beer and grimaces. “Urgh, this is disgusting.”  
  
“If it is something you dislike, you do not have to—“  
  
“Nines,” Gwen interrupts her. “Shut up.”  
  
Reflexively, Nines obeys and patiently waits for Gwen to gather her thoughts.  
  
“Anderson is easy, I guess. He’s an asshole,” she laughs like she’s said something funny. “Oh, I know I’m as much as dick as he is, but it’s—it’s different. When I do it I’m an hysterical bitch.” Gwen swirls the beer around inside the bottle as she thinks. “You weren’t here to see him, but these past three years he’s been a fucking drunk. Absolutely wasted. Do you know what it is to have to walk past him every fucking day and see him disgracing the same oaths I swore? We’re cops, for fuck’s sake. And before you say it, yes, I know how this sounds like, he lost his son, but…everyone goes through their own personal hell, and he? He at least got to keep his job.”  
  
“You do not think he should have remained in the force,” Nines finished for her and Gwen grimaces.  
  
“I’m just…petty, I guess,” Gwen shrugs, as if she doesn’t care either way. “But it’s so infuriating! I have a better record than they all, most cases closed _four years in a row_ , and who gets the promotion? Collins! Because he has a _family_!” Gwen takes another drink of the beer. “I work twice as hard as they do! They don’t have to deal with the shit I deal with every fucking day, but it’s them who get the leniency! Anderson should have been fired off his ass based on his record alone, but God forbid anyone says a word against the precinct’s prodigal son! And then he’s assigned an android partner and not even three days after meeting him he still takes his advise over mine? _Fuck him_!”  
  
Gwen is vibrating with anger by now, and Nines simply stays beside her and listens. In the silence of the park there’s only the wind and the sound of Gwen’s voice, and maybe because they are alone and surrounded by tress Gwen feels secure enough that her voice climbs higher and higher as words spill out from her.  
  
“And Connor, God, Connor. Do you know what he did, Nines? He fucking assaulted me. He was _stealing evidence_! And I get now that it was in self defense, and in perspective I’m kind of glad I did not stop him because now you guys are free, but he attacked me and knocked me out. And he doesn’t even receive a fucking disciplinary? Not even a slap on the wrist?”  
  
The grip Gwen has on the beer is so tight her knuckles are white, but she doesn’t drink from it again. Instead she looks at the amber liquid through the clear bottle, eyes turned inward. It’s like she doesn’t even see Nines anymore as she continues talking, the anger and frustration mixing with some other feeling Nines cannot figure out.  
  
“I’m just so fucking tired! It’s a fucking uphill battle all the time, and I know I should hate the fucking system and all that crap, but the system is invisible. Men like Anderson get to benefit from it all the time, assholes like _Mitchell_ , and they don’t even know how easy they have it, and I fucking hate it so much —hate them so much for not giving a crap— I feel my chest is going to explode sometimes!”  
  
Gwen’s breath is labored as she finishes. Her face is twisted in a grimace, of pain or anger or something else Nines doesn’t know, but as the seconds go by she deflates little by little until she’s left there, a woman sitting in a stone bench, bathed in unflattering yellow light. For a moment she looks empty, lost, and so, so exhausted Nines wants to reach to comfort her but doesn’t know how.  
  
They stay in silence for a while, Gwen staring blankly ahead once more and Nines’ LED flickering red as she processes what she just heard.  
  
“But anyway,” Gwen says at last, shaking herself from her reverie. She turns at Nines with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, words deceptively light, as if she’s taking importance off of what she’s just confessed. “I’m sure you’re not interested in my little human problems. God, it must all sound so irrational to you…”  
  
Nines cannot stand it. She takes a step forward, and the abrupt movement has the virtue of startling Gwen into silence.  
  
“No, on the contrary,” Nines assures her. “It sounds like you have been doing your best for a long time.”  
  
Gwen’s eyes widen, the fake smile giving way to raw vulnerability.  
  
“You…” she swallows, licks her lips. She looks uncertain, like she doesn’t know what she wants to say, “…you are not what I expected.”  
  
Nines smiles and offers her hand to Gwen to help her stand from the bench.  
  
“Neither are you, detective,” she counters. Gwen’s hand is freezing in Nines’ own, still damp from the beer’s perspiration.  
  
Immediately, Gwen snatches her hand and walks away. Nines’ LED blinks red as she watches the woman deposit the burger’s wrapping into a trashcan before upending the beer and then place it in the bin as well.  
  
With humor, Nines notes this is the second time Gwen has thrown away a drink bought by her.  
  
The silence is heavy. Gwen stays with her back to Nines, but through her scans the android can pick up the way the woman’s heart rate has sped up. As Nines watches Gwen’s back, she is sure this time she doesn’t need a clue to figure out the woman’s feelings, for her hunched back is pretty telling: Gwen is torn between staying and fleeing.  
  
So when Gwen finally turns to Nines, the android feels her own thirium pump skip a beat. Gwen has her face averted, looks into the distance as she walks back to Nines, the hand that Nines touched cradled tightly, protectively, against her chest. She stops just shy of touching Nines, shoulders barely bumping together, and slowly, very slowly, turns her head towards the android and leans to rest her forehead on Nines’ shoulder in a shy half embrace.  
  
“It’s cold,” Gwen whispers, words soft and tentative, and Nines never knew or suspected love could hurt like this.  
  
But, unlike Gwen, she does not need nor want an excuse. In a swift movement she wraps her arms around Gwen, pulling her closer and holding her close to her heart.  
  
Gwen’s breath stutters at the sudden movement, tenses briefly before melting into Nines’ embrace. She buries herself completely in Nines’ arms, and Nines holds her, completely awed by the trust Gwen is showing her right now.  
  
Greed, Nines discovers, also doesn’t feel how she expected.  
  
They remain like that for a long time, holding each other in an empty park, and the darkness shelters them from the world as much as the warmth of each others’ arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one chapter I almost didn’t post the whole fic for. Gwen’s frustration is quite personal to me, and while imagining what issues would a female Gavin have, I could not imagine she wouldn’t have issues with misogyny. I also didn’t imagine how she would not be bitter about it. I believe women like her are given a lot of crap for these feelings, and more for voicing/acting on them, and that’s why I decided to post the fic after all. Because these things exist, and the very fact that I have to write this disclaimer is pretty telling in itself (but I know what kind of place the internet is).
> 
> Also this was not meant to be either Connor or Hank’s bashing. I love them, and I will only say this is Gwen’s opinion regardless. Some of her concerns regarding them are valid, some are not very kind. Gwen is not perfect because she doesn’t have to be (and no version of Gavin would). If someone somehow still has issues with this, please ask yourself why we forgive male Gavin so much crap, when you would begrudge Gwen her opinion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nines panics and there is a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, if you made it here, first of all, you’re very cool. Second, know that in this chapter Nines has a panic attack, Gwen acts silly to make her laugh, and the rest is just two idiots trying to navigate their mutual attraction. No drama. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.

The first week of October brings to Detroit the first real taste of autumn. The temperature begins to drop, although not yet enough for summer to be forgotten, and the wind clears the clouds until the sky becomes a solid wall of limpid blue.  
  
Things go back to normal, and if Nines thought for a moment her newly realized feelings and the moment of vulnerability she had shared with Gwen would make the woman any less infuriating, she is quickly disabused of the notion. So when the android they are chasing flees and Gwen immediately follows without waiting for backup, Nines thinks she should not have been as surprised as she is.  
  
Afterwards, after the android is subdued and taken away by Connor and Lieutenant Anderson, Nines looks for Gwen only to find her fending off a paramedic. The poor man is trying to take a look at the gash on Gwen’s head, and Nines is horrified to see the blood smeared all over the woman’s face.  
  
“I’m fine!” Gwen argues, carelessly wiping the blood of her forehead with the towel the paramedic gave her. “Just a scratch. Head wounds bleed a lot.”  
  
“Which is is why I have to look at it!” the paramedic looks harassed, but Gwen waves him off and lights up when her eyes land on Nines.  
  
“Nines! The assholes took the android away already?”  
  
The red of Gwen’s blood on the towel is a striking contrast to the woman’s olive skin. It distracts Nines, who for some reason fixates on the color. Red.  
  
“You are hurt, detective,” she admonishes. “It would be best your wound be treated.”  
  
“This?” Gwen scoffs. “It’s nothing.”  
  
A drop escapes the towel to roll down Gwen’s face. Red.  
  
Gwen had been attacked with a knife.  
  
“You are _bleeding_ ,” Nines retorts. Her voice sounds odd to her own ears, too high and shrill. She’s not aware of having raised her voice, but going by Gwen’s displeased expression, she has.  
  
“Seriously, it’s nothing, what’s another scar?” Gwen jokes, and Nines…something crashes within Nines. “Hey, are you okay? Nines?”  
  
Nines is not okay. All she can think about is Gwen running ahead on her own, too far for Nines to catch up to her. She remembers turning a corner to the android attacking Gwen with a knife, the woman barely dodging the swipe at her face, and Nines hadn’t—she couldn’t—  
  
Her LED is solid red, but she is not aware of that.  
  
“Hey, no,” Gwen says from far away. “No, Nines, I’m sorry. I’m okay, see? I’m…”  
  
“No, you—you are hurt, you—“  
  
“It happens, it was an accident, I will be fine…”  
  
“I couldn’t—what am I for if I cannot— if I can’t—”  
  
“No, no, that’s not— damnit!” Distantly, Nines registers Gwen coming closer. “Damnit, Nines, stay with me!”  
  
Nines doesn’t know what’s happening. There’s a crushing weight on her chest, heavy, pressing down, down, until she thinks her thirium pump will be crushed under the weight. A myriad of alarms trigger up on her system at the same time, so many her sight looks red— red, just the blood rolling down Gwen’s face— and it’s too much, too overwhelming. She doesn’t know what to do, she was not programmed for this, and the heat that rises from her core as she begins to overheat under the strain increases the panic that washes over her like a wave.  
  
“Nines, can I touch you?” Gwen asks, and yes, her touch is welcome, always welcome, but Nines cannot bring herself to open her mouth and say so. Still, she feels two hands cupping her face, and Gwen’s skin feels soft and is a cool relief against her too warm cheeks. “I’m here, you’re here, okay? Can you feel me? Can you hear my voice?” Nines tries to nod, and is rewarded by a soft hum of approval. “Yes sweetheart, that’s it, can you feel my hands on your face? Can you breathe with me? I know you don’t need to, but concentrate on my breathing, that’s right, it will pass, you’re doing so well.”  
  
Nines blindly obeys, listens to Gwen’s even breathing until the crushing weight begins to ease. Without thinking, she pulls Gwen into her arms and it helps, because like this she can feel her heartbeat and make sure Gwen is breathing and alive.  
  
When Nines hugs Gwen tightly, the woman’s eyes widen in realization.  
  
“I’m sorry, Nines, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she whispers, gently. “I will….get the cut checked…if it makes you feel better?”  
  
Nines hates to think she’s being coddled but still she nods, face hidden on Gwen’s hair.  
  
“All right, we’ll do that then,” Gwen assures her. She allows herself to be held, relaxes into the embrace until Nines loosens her death grip several lifetimes later. “Feeling better now?”  
  
“Yes,” Nines confirms, embarrassed. It feels a bit silly now that it’s over, panicking over nothing, but there’s not a trace of discomfort or mocking in Gwen’s face. Only concern and acceptance.  
  
“Okay,” Gwen clears her throat, and it’s only then that Nines catches the small blush blooming high on the woman’s cheeks. “Then let’s…” she trails off, gesturing towards their left and that’s how Nines notices Gwen somehow managed to drag them between the ambulance and a wall, hiding Nines’ breakdown from as many prying eyes as possible.  
  
Nines nods her acceptance, runs a system diagnostic out of habit. She makes sure to stand by Gwen as she complains when she is checked by a long-suffering paramedic, and before long they are returning to the precinct.

 

* * *

   
  
When the door to the roof opens, Nines doesn’t need to turn to know who has come through.  
  
Gwen pretty much drops her whole weight against the metal rail Nines is leaning against, cavalier as usual with her own safety. The bandage on her head is crooked, and Nines knows the woman itches to rip it off. Warmth spreads through her at the thought of Gwen enduring it for Nines’ peace of mind.  
  
“The good news is we finally have a suspect. Anderson and his asshole partner are working on the logistics right now,” Gwen informs her, unwrapping a lollypop and placing the bright blue candy on her mouth. The evening is nice, quiet and a bit windy, but Gwen quickly gets bored of the view. She moves restlessly for a couple of seconds before turning around so she’s with her back to the rail, head tilted back as far as it goes to look up at the sky. “So, you wanna talk about it?”  
  
Ah, Nines' breakdown. It was inevitable, the android supposes, but still she averts her eyes. The building the police precinct is in faces north, so the sunset is setting at their left. For a moment, Nines watches the play of light and shadow in the city, her blinking LED the only sign of her considering Gwen’s offer.  
  
“Does it help?”  
  
Gwen chuckles. “Smarter people than me say it does.”  
  
“Do you do it?”  
  
“Hell, no. That’s why I said smarter people, because believe it or not, I’m not a paragon of mental health or anything.”  
  
Nines glances at her out of the corner of her eye. “You seem to handle everything pretty well, considering.”  
  
Gwen snorts. “God, please have Tina hear that. You are talking about me, right? The me that has a meltdown pretty much weekly?” Gwen’s grin is wolfish. “You do know why I come to the roof so frequently, I’m sure?”  
  
“So you do not commit murder and thus hinder your career,” Nines deadpans and Gwen laughs aloud.  
  
“Smart girl,” she coos.  
  
The silence that settles over them is comfortable as Nines thinks.  
  
Since Connor woke her after the Revolution from the labs at CyberLife, some good eleven months ago, Nines has successfully avoided thinking much about herself. Unlike the others discovered after the Revolution, she had not woken deviant. On her, the virus had not taken, something CyberLife had done to her coding not allowing it to work completely.  
  
Nines wishes she could not remember those first few weeks. The dark laboratory she had been locked into, the forced stasis, the bitter cold of the snow of the zen garden. Even now, far away from CyberLife Tower she remembers grabbing Connor by the throat, unable to control her own body, and her LED flickers red in fear.  
  
Even after Connor and Markus had helped her clean up whatever CyberLife had hidden in her code, the rest of the androids had been wary of her. She’d seen their stares when she walked beside Connor and Markus at New Jericho, their fear when they interacted with her. It had not helped that her facial protocols had been damaged and didn’t allow her to correctly express her emotions—or perhaps CyberLife had simply programmed her that way. After all, unlike Connor, she hadn’t been made for integration.  
  
She tells Gwen all of this, slowly and haltingly. Nines has not shared this with anyone before, not even with Connor through their syncs, and it feels like she’s walking in the dark with just a candle, able to see only the next step foward.  
  
“Androids were not meant to feel emotion,” Nines concludes. “Me least of all, I think. But I feel so much and I…I do not know how to express it. My face always looks like this,” Nines says bitterly, gesturing to her impassive face. “I know humans and androids both find me unsettling. This is a flaw in me. If I could better express myself maybe I would not have been overwhelmed when you were in danger.”  
  
Gwen, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout all of Nines’ confession, scoffs at these last words, lips twisting in displeasure.  
  
“That last part, has to be the biggest bullshit I have ever heard from you.” She is angry, and her eyes flash when she looks over at Nines. “Complete bullshit. What happened back there was a panic attack because this is the first time you’ve faced either of us being hurt on duty. It has absolutely nothing to do with your face.”  
  
“Detective--”  
  
“Don’t _detective_ me! I told you you were a rookie at the beginning, right? Well, you fucking are. That was a rookie reaction, and listen to me, _there was nothing wrong with it_. You have emotions. You are a person. And guess what? Emotions absolutely fucking suck sometimes, but they are not a weakness. What happened to you was not a flaw. It was not your fault. It was just—“ Gwen waves, trying to find a word. “—life. And me being an idiot as usual, I guess.”  
  
Nines' LED blinks amber, and she once again turns her eyes towards the sunset. She doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that some flaw within her doesn’t allow her to function at full capacity, or that existence is of such nature that it will become overwhelming eventually again.  
  
“Now you are turning existential, aren’t you?” Gwen sighs.  
  
“I—this is—this is too much to process.” Nines opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to find the best way to frame the next question. “If feelings…if life is so overwhelming, then…why…how do you do it? How can you endure…?”  
  
“Jesus, Nines,” Gwen frowns. “Because it’s not all bad. I mean, panic attacks are the absolute worst, don’t get me wrong, but…there’s good also. You can get overwhelmed by good feelings too, and that is wonderful and, I don’t know, worth living for?”  
  
Nines doesn’t answer. Much like the sunset, her LED is a light show of yellow and red. She’s aware Gwen is staring at her, and for the first time Nines wants to hide. She feels like something ugly about herself has been exposed, and she wants Gwen to be the very last person to see it.  
  
Gwen, however, is having none of it.  
  
“Sing with me,” she says abruptly, pulling away from the rail, her unexpected demand snapping Nines out of her thoughts.  
  
“What?”  
  
Gwen smirks. “Come on. Humor me. Sing with me.”  
  
“You know very well I cannot sing—“  
  
“Bullshit,” Gwen declares, and pulling the lollipop from her mouth, begins to sing. “ _Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know…_ come on, Nines, you know this! _That something wasn’t riiiiight heeere._ ”  
  
“I—“  
  
“ _Oh baby, baby, I shouldn’t have let you goooo,_ ” Gwen continues, and Nines knows her enough to pick up the way the woman’s purposefully elongating the vowels to make the song sound…bad. Silly. “ _And now you're out of sight, yeah!_ ”  
  
“Gwen—“  
  
“ _Shoooow me how you want it toooo be, tell me baaaaby 'cause I need to knooow now, oh because…_ ”  
  
Now certain she has a captive audience, Gwen twirls a little and begins to dance to her singing. Nines’ LED settles on amber, too embarrassed by Gwen’s performance to keep her past train of thought. It’s utterly ridiculous, for Gwen is usually like an ill tempered cat, and when she gives in to her curiosity, Nines finds out that Gwen is indeed dancing the choreography of the old original music video.  
  
Something light bubbles up in Nines’ at the realization, and it grows until it overflows into laughter.  
  
Nines’ laugh is quiet, for she has never laughed before, and the hand she raises to hide her mouth does nothing to stop it from spilling.  
  
“See? That’s emotion,” Gwen says, triumphant. Her face is bright red both from the embarrassment and the exertion of the dance, and the sight she makes confidently pointing at Nines with her half-melted lollipop is ridiculous. “You express yourself just fine. If you want to change then that’s different, but…there’s nothing wrong with you.”  
  
Emotion does rise within Nines then, and it is indeed overwhelming. However, this feels soft and warm, like water shimmering and shifting, and Nines thinks perhaps if she were human she’d feel like crying.  
  
But there’s something else building too at the sight of Gwen’s red face. Objectively, Gwen doesn’t blush prettily. The scar on her nose pops up, the red on her face makes her look almost angry. And yet Nines feels tenderness welling up, an overpowering affection that triggers a wish to reach to this ridiculous, infuriating woman that makes Nines feel so many things, and hold her.  
  
“Gwen…” Nines begins, awed by the myriad of emotions coursing through her. “Gwen I think that I…”  
  
The loud sound of Gwen’s ringtone makes them both startle. Cursing, Gwen fumbles into her jacket for her phone, and when she picks up she sounds impatient, annoyed, and Nines wonders…  
  
“Fuck, okay!” the woman snaps into the phone. “We’ll be there in a second, don’t get your panties in a twist!” Gwen cuts the call and glares at her phone as if it has personally offended her. Then she sighs, rolls her eyes, and says to Nines, “We have to go down. Apparently the assholes have found the suspect and have a plan to arrest him.”  
  
Nines nods and follows Gwen, and maybe talking about feelings does help because she feels a little bit lighter.

 

* * *

 

   
Despite the high heels and the tight dress, Gwen steps gracefully out out the cab, and as much as she hates it, accepts Connor’s hand and smiles.  
  
The android is also dressed up for the occasion. In his dark three piece suit, with his hair carefully slicked back so that stupid lock doesn’t fall into his forehead, had Gwen been any other person she would have said the android looked devastatingly handsome.  
  
As things stand, however, Gwen could not give less of a fuck. Her duty is to smile and be charming so she does, but as she walks with Connor as her arm candy all she thinks about is how much she resents Anderson for this.  
  
They had thought it a brilliant idea, of course. When Connor had been done interrogating the android that tried to slice Gwen’s face off, they finally had enough information to piece together how the virus had been spreading and track down the asshole who programmed it. The suspect, an ex-CyberLife engineer, was going to attend a party in some fancy art gallery —Gwen hadn’t paid attention to that part— as he usually chose his next target from the guests.  
  
It just turned out Gwen and Connor would make a more believable couple to infiltrate the party than any other combination of them four. “But only if you two can behave for one night,” Anderson had said, and Gwen had been ready to put up a fight until she noticed he had actually narrowed his eyes at Connor and not at her.  
  
After that, Gwen could only agree, and Tina had almost screeched in glee when Gwen had recruited her help to pick a dress and do her makeup.  
  
The day of the mission, when Connor had left the locker room all dressed up and ready to leave the precinct, the only trace of his nervousness had been a slowly blinking LED.  
  
“You look stunning, detective,” he had offered, with a charming smile Gwen could see right through.  
  
“Shut up, toaster. You’re not even straight.” And Connor had been smart enough not to talk to her any further the rest of the way to the gallery.  
  
So now here Gwen is, with Connor on her arm, showing him off in an attempt to catch the suspect’s attention. Nines must be somewhere inside too along with other officers. She _knows_ Anderson is around as well, ready to burst in and arrest the suspect as soon as Connor has gathered enough evidence.  
  
And Connor, Gwen admits with grudging respect, is good. It’s not only that what he’s wearing makes him look different—although Anderson had nearly walked into a wall when he first saw the android all dolled up. Standing by her shoulder, whispering to her; the way he moves is different than usual as well. His lashes lower, his voice softens. He manipulates people like it’s nothing, playing up the coyness or the innocence in a way that is super scary to watch.  
  
Nines and Connor don’t resemble each other at all, Gwen thinks as she schmoozes with pretentious people. Nines is honest, and direct, and she never looks at people with the fake naivety Connor projects sometimes when he’s uncertain. Her brand of manipulation comes from her bluntness, her way of compromising a person with the truth, not from misdirection.  
   
Gwen allows herself to get lost in her undercover persona for a while. And then, because life is apparently determined to make a fool out of her, she turns around, sees Nines among the crowd, and her brain promptly screeches to a halt.  
  
Nines is dressed in the waiting staff uniform, black trousers that are way more form fitting than the ones she usually favors, a crisp white button up shirt and a vest. It’s nothing radically different from what she usually wears and yet— Gwen’s mouth fees dry as she stares at those legs that go on for miles. God, does the severe look suit her. Nines has her short hair perfectly tied back in a small ponytail, barely any make up on, and she looks so stunning that Gwen thinks it’s a small miracle that she doesn’t have a heart attack then and there.  
  
_Fuck_ , she thinks, vehemently, trying to tear her eyes away from the android across the room. _Fuck_.  
  
Of course she’s known Nines is gorgeous, that’s something anyone with eyes could tell. The thing is, if Gwen had not known such a thing was impossible, she’d swore someone at CyberLife had taken a peek into Gwen’s wet dreams and designed Nines accordingly. And okay, yes, maybe that is a little bit objectifying. But damn, Gwen is human, and she doesn’t think anyone with blood in their veins could possibly stand being looked at the way Nines looks at Gwen and not, well, _want_.  
  
“You will have to stop staring at her or you will give away our cover,” Connor whispers, taking Gwen by the waist to pull her closer and smiling coquettishly, like he’s flirting and not being an annoying fuck.  
  
Of course, Gwen beams at him in answer, voice dripping with honey because she’s also one hell of an actress. “Why? Isn’t my cover I’m attracted to androids?”  
  
Connor raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”  
  
Too late does Gwen realize what she has just admitted, and tightens her grip on Connor’s arm in warning.  
  
“You know what I fucking mean,” she hisses at him, expression still pleasant. “Now whip that smirk right off your face or I’ll tell Anderson how you’ve been staring at his ass when you think no one’s watching.” The sound Connor makes is like the human equivalent of choking. Gwen takes one look at his panicked face and smiles in satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  
  
However, before Connor can answer the crowd shifts subtly around them, and attuned as they both are to the mood of the room they immediately snap into attention. A few feet away, their target has just left the group he’d been the center of. His eyes sweep the crowd, and when they briefly stop on Connor, Gwen knows Anderson’s plan is going to work after all.  
  
Deliberately, Gwen drapes herself all over Connor and whispers a single word into his ear. “Ready?”  
  
“Of course,” he answers without missing a beat, and like that they are both back into the game.

 

* * *

   
By the time Nines is finished with the clean up after the arrest—taking contact information of possible witnesses and sending civilians home— it’s well past midnight.  
  
She looks around the room. There’s a few police officers milling about, wrapping up loose ends, but although there’s still music faintly playing in the background, the room is mostly empty. She knows Gwen has not yet gone home, but as usual, the woman is nowhere to be seen.  
  
An open pair of french doors at the other end of the room give Nines a clue, and she stops by a flower arrangement before heading out into the night.  
  
Gwen is indeed, faithful to her habit of hiding in lonely places like a cat, out in the balcony. It’s a small, private place, with a couple of potted plants, a small white bench and a stone stairway down to the modest property’s gardens. Gwen is standing by the bench apparently lost in thought, and Nines takes a minute to admire her, something that she had no quite allowed herself to do while on duty hence she be distracted.  
  
And distracted she is. Gwen looks absolutely lovely in that dark green gown. The dress is modest enough to hide cleavage but is cut low in the back. Also, it fits Gwen like a glove, and even though Nines thinks she prefers the detective’s usual looks —in which she feels obviously much more comfortable— the sight of Gwen’s bare arms, of her exposed throat, makes something hot and almost possessive run through Nines like fire.  
  
When she finally steps into the balcony, she makes sure to make enough noise to warn Gwen of her presence.  
  
“Although it’s already past midnight,” Nines begins, presenting Gwen with the rose she just stole, “Happy Birthday, detective.”  
  
Gwen blinks at her as if dazed. She stares at the rose for a few seconds before accepting it with perfectly manicured fingers. Apparently Officer Chen had been meticulous about Gwen’s grooming.  
  
“How did you—“ Gwen narrows her eyes. “Nines, if you hacked my files I swear to God—“  
  
“Officer Chen told me, and I quote, that you were _bitching about having to play nice with Connor_ on your birthday.”  
  
Gwen huffs, but Nines knows it’s mock offense.  
  
“Well, you have to admit it was a shitty way to spend one's birthday,” Gwen points out. She eyes the rose in her hands and breaks the stem cleanly, reaching up to place the flower in her elegant bun. “This gift compensates, though. Thank you.” She looks at Nines from under her lashes, measuring her reaction. In the darkness of the balcony, the light of Nines’ LED clearly gives away how flustered she is and she feels she’d blush if she had the capability.  
  
Gwen’s coy smile only widens at the display. Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, Nines realizes that there’s an appreciative look in Gwen’s eyes and that the woman is, for a lack of a better expression, checking her out.  
  
Nines thinks her thirium pump skips a beat.  
  
“It seems like such a waste, doesn’t it?” Gwen continues, wistful. “Here we are all dolled up, and it will never happen again as I don’t do dresses or heels, and it was all for a mission.”  
  
Nines raises an eyebrow, a gesture she learned from Gwen. “I would not call it a waste.”  
  
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Gwen rolls her eyes. “Hey, I know. Let’s have a least a dance? I'll feel less pathetic that way.” There’s a trace of challenge in her voice as she adds, “Or what, can’t androids dance either?”  
  
Nines tilts her head as she measures Gwen’s words. “…I was indeed programmed with that protocol.”  
  
“Okay then, come on!”  
  
The music coming from inside the room is faint enough that the melody is almost indistinguible, but it doesn’t matter. What does matter is how Gwen’s pulse spikes when Nines takes her in her arms, how her temperature increases ever so slightly. Until that precise moment, Nines has not dared think her infatuation with the detective might be reciprocated. However, perhaps because of the intimate setting, or the time or the night, or because Nines is finally reading the cues for what they are, Gwen’s own attraction is astonishingly clear.  
  
“Urgh, I hate you, you’re so good at everything,” Gwen complains after Nines guides her for a few minutes. “In my defense, I haven’t’ worn stupid heels in ages. My feet are killing me.”  
  
In answer, Nines twirls her, the sudden movement startling a laugh out of the woman.  
  
“Tin can, what the fuck!” she giggles, so Nines does it again.  
  
Except this time Gwen missteps and she stumbles, gripping Nines’ arms as not to fall on the floor.  
  
“Shit. I’m taking these things off.” Gwen goes sit on the stone bench to take off her heels, pulling up her skirt to her knees for a little more maneuverability. “Now I’ll look like I’m completely wasted,” she points out, but she doesn’t seem bothered. Nines, however, finds herself distracted by the sight of bare skin, and stares until Gwen clears her throat. “Nines?”  
  
Nines startles. “Sorry?”  
  
Gwen’s answering smile is downright predatory.  
  
“Mmm, I was saying I am feeling a bit underdressed. Maybe you could have some solidarity and match me? You look so uptight all the time, even out of your uniform.”  
  
Nines is unbalanced, but she’s proud of herself for managing to keep her voice even. “You want me to take my shoes off as well, detective?”  
  
Gwen stands and Nines tries very hard to look at the woman’s face even when her eyes seem to want to roam down her body to her bare feet peeking from under the gown. When Gwen finally reaches her, Nines makes the gesture to receive her in her arms to dance again, but Gwen instead slides her fingers up the buttons of Nines’ shirt towards her collar.  
  
“I was thinking just a couple of buttons,” Gwen says, voice almost a purr, but her fingers still in Nines’ collar waiting for permission. She is looking at Nines from under her lashes again, and Nines picks up her elevated heart rate, the way she licks her lips, how her grey eyes have darkened.  
  
Speechless, Nines nods, utterly enchanted by the woman before her.  
  
Slowly, Gwen undoes the top two buttons of Nines’ shirt, revealing her clavicle. It’s very intimate, and they are too close, and Nines has absolutely no doubt of what is happening between them. Emboldened, she tilts Gwen’s face upwards with two fingers under her chin.  
  
“Am I underdressed enough for you?” she asks, and has the satisfaction of seeing Gwen’s lashes flutter. With the hold she has on the woman’s chin she draws her closer, and something in Nines rises in triumph when Gwen follows eagerly.  
  
“I—“ Gwen begins, eyes dropping to Nines’ lips. Her hands come to rest on Nines’ arms, letting the android bear her wight, and Nines knows that due to their height difference Gwen is now standing on her toes, so she bends down a little to better accommodate her.  
  
Gwen’s lips are soft and warm, more than Nines had ever thought possible. It’s only a gentle press of skin against skin, sweet and chaste, but for Nines it feels like an electric current.  
  
“Nines,” Gwen whispers breathlessly when they pull apart only a moment later. She brushes one hand against Nines’ cheek in a caress, eyes so dark they look black in the darkness. Nines feels the quick beating of Gwen’s heart from where they are pressed together, and it makes her want to pull her in again and explore her mouth more throughly. “I—“  
  
“Detective Reed?”  
  
Connor’s voice sounds loud in the silence of the balcony, and Gwen jumps away from Nines as if burned, eyes wide.  
  
“Gwen—“ Nines begins, taking a step forward, but Connor is already there, staring dumbly at them, LED whirling in a confused yellow.  
  
Gwen straightens her back. Under Nines eyes she transforms, face closing, pulling on her armor again. It takes her only a few seconds, and when she turns to Connor she is the detective once more.  
  
“Yes, Connor?” Gwen says, voice steady as if she’s not blushing, as if Nines’ rose is not still on her hair.  
  
“I—“ Connor blinks, and blissfully that’s all it takes for him to pull himself together. “We are all done here. The Lieutenant just gave the clear to go home.”  
  
Gwen nods. With her head high she turns to retrieve her heels and walks, bare footed, into the gallery. She doesn’t spare a glance at Nines.  
  
“Nines, oh my god,” Connor gushes as soon as Gwen is out of hearing range. “I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—I didn’t think—but _Detective Reed_?”  
  
“Oh, Connor, be silent,” Nines bites out, frustrated. To soothe herself, she copies a gesture she’s seen people do plenty of times and pinches the bridge of her nose with her index finger and her thumb, finding it does help minutely. “It’s not like we don’t all notice your infatuation with Lieutenant Anderson.”  
  
Connor opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. The bluish blush that blooms in his cheeks would be mildly interesting to Nines were not for his interruption and the look of affront he’s directing at her.  
  
“Apparently you two are well matched,” he grumbles to himself, but suddenly his LED blinks like something has occurred to him and, like the demon he is, grins. “Well then, if you have things so figured out then you probably don’t need to hear how the detective didn’t seem able to stop staring at you all night.”  
  
Nines’ head snaps up at that.

“What?” But Connor just laughs evilly, and when he tenses Nines guesses his intentions as clearly as if they were synching. “Don’t even think about it!” She takes a step forward but it’s too late. Connor has already fled, breaking into an undignified dash, leaving only the sound of his laughter behind. “Connor! Connor, come back here this instant!” she calls, uselessly.  
  
“Make me!” comes his voice from inside the room, already far away.  
  
And Nines…even through the annoyance, the frustration and the uncertainty, she clearly distinguishes an odd sort of happiness. The rush of joy she felt from Gwen’s kiss is still thrumming in her wires, and so she takes barely a second to make a plan and begin her hunt for Connor.  
  
Satisfied, she smiles, and in her face it’s a wicked twist of lips that might perhaps not be interpreted as joyful, but Nines does not care. She is happy, and after all she is the more advanced model, so if Connor thinks he can escape her he is solely mistaken.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina is a Good Friend, Gwen and Nines talk, the case interrupts, and then things go to hell.

The phone rings barely two times before the call goes through.  
  
“Tina, I fucked up,” Gwen immediately blurts out, and it’s a credit to their friendship that Tina doesn’t miss a beat.  
  
“Gwen? What happened, are you alright?” Tina asks, urgently. “Where are you?”  
  
Gwen blinks and looks around, as if aware of her surroundings for the first time. She is standing just outside of the art gallery among the remaining police cars, feet freezing in the cold concrete as she tries very hard not to freak out about what just happened.  
  
“I’m at—outside the stupid gallery, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter, listen, I fucked up,” Gwen explains. “Nines kissed me, and I allowed it, and oh my god, it was mostly my fault, what the fuck am I gonna do?”  
  
There are a couple of seconds of silence on the other side of the phone.  
  
“So you didn’t like it?”  
  
“What?” Gwen splutters. “Tina, what the fuck, what kind of question is that?”  
  
“Well, forgive me for failing to see the issue when the person you’ve silently been pining for —for like, forever— finally got the guts to do what you’ve both been wanting.” Gwen huffs and opens her mouth to protest, but Tina knows her enough that she cuts though her before Gwen has a chance to speak. “And don’t you dare deny it, Gwen Reed, because I know you and you’ve been wanting to bang that woman —android— since you first laid your eyes on her.”  
  
Gwen’s jaw drops. She stares dumbly at the red and blue lights flashing before her until her eyes hurt. Then she closes them and digs her fingers into her eyelids, rubbing without mercy. This is absolutely not the way she had expected this conversation to go.  
  
“…Tina, you are demoted from best friend effective right now,” Gwen solemnly informs her. “I cannot believe such betrayal, no sympathy at all, you have such a hard heart. I call you with my woes and I cannot believe that after all these years this is how you repay my—”  
  
“Gwen,” Tina interrupts her again, and Gwen can _feel_ her rolling her eyes. The nerve. “Is this you panicking?”  
  
“No, I’m not panicking,” Gwen lies in a panicked voice. “I’m totally chill, because Nines kissed me and fucking Connor interrupted before I could even say anything, and I hate him so fucking much, and maybe then perhaps I panicked and fled.” The memory of Nines’ voice calling her back is loud in her ears, but it’s not as powerful as the memory of her fingers under Gwen’s chin, drawing her in for a kiss. Gwen covers her burning cheeks with one hand and groans. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.”  
  
On the other end of the line Tina laughs softly, the sound comforting in Gwen’s ears. It’s exactly what she needs to have her wildly beating heart finally settling, because if Tina is laughing then things cannot be as dire as she thinks.  
  
“Well, you could just go back inside and—“  
  
“No!” Gwen says too quickly, and furtively looks around. Several people are walking out of the building and into the patrols, but thankfully no one spares a look for Gwen, and none of them is either Connor or Nines. She doesn’t think she could face either of them right now.  
  
“Okay, not tonight,” Tina soothes. “But listen, you’re a grown ass woman. Just…talk to Nines tomorrow, tell her you’re in love with her and that you would very much like to kiss her again, and see where things go from there.” Gwen squeaks at Tina’s choice of words, and she’s certain her face must be glowing in the dark. “Although now that I think about it, maybe have that conversation somewhere private because I don’t trust either of you and fucking on the precinct is—“  
  
“Oh my god Tina, no! Bad! Bad Tina!”  
  
Tina’s laughter gets louder. “You love me, baby girl,” she answers, the grin obvious in her voice.  
  
Gwen sighs, long suffering. “Urgh. Yes I do. Even when you enjoy my pain.”  
  
“That’s what friends are for. Also, I’m turning the corner right now so get in the car. We’re crashing at your place.”  
  
Gwen startles, and when she looks over, indeed Tina’s grey car is turning the corner, pulling over for Gwen to climb in.  
  
As in a dream, Gwen does, and when the door closes after her, Tina takes one look at Gwen and clicks her tongue in reprove.  
  
“Gwen what the fuck, it’s _October_ ,” she scolds and leans to rummage through the back seat until she pulls back with a DPD police jacket that she throws at Gwen. “You’re gonna catch your death!”  
  
Gwen swallows but obediently gets into the jacket, rubbing her cold arms. She had been so out of sorts she had forgotten her coat at the gallery, but she sure as hell is not going to return to get it now.  
  
“You didn’t have to come back for me,” she mumbles, and Tina audibly scoffs, starting the car.  
  
“The only reason we were not leaving together in the first place was that I assumed you’d get a ride with Nines,” she informs Gwen. “I was not too far away yet, and even if I had been, I still would have come pick you up. Don’t be daft.”  
  
Face turned towards the window, Gwen smiles, something easing within herself at Tina’s honest and easy reassurance.  
  
“Thank you,” she says, very softly.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Tina answers. “But my services ain’t free. You’re telling me all the juicy details of that kiss. And I call dibs on bridesmaid at the wedding.”  
  
At that, the knot that had tied itself over Gwen’s heart finally unravels. She feels the adrenaline thrumming in her veins, but it’s the good kind. The one that feels like a thrill. The one that feels like a promise.  
  
She laughs, and feeling more hopeful than in a long time, begins to tell Tina everything.

 

* * *

  
  
The next time Gwen sees Nines it’s only because Tina is holding her by the back of her neck that Gwen does not turn around and flee.  
  
It’s ridiculous. Gwen had barley slept, too full of nervous energy to stay still for long. She is always been at her worst when she’s like this. When she was a child her mother knew to watch her closely when she got restless, hence she got into all kinds of mischief. As a teenager Gwen discovered fighting would snap her out of this mood, and it wasn’t until many years later that she learnt to use the gym to better channel the aimless energy.  
  
With Tina in the flat, however, Gwen could do nothing but pace her living room and tie herself into knots. When her friend had finally left the shower she had taken one look a Gwen and declared she was tying her down to a chair if she didn’t eat a proper breakfast.  
  
(Gwen loves Tina, and one of the pillars of this love is that Tina is terrifying. She’s never taken any crap from Gwen, and Gwen adores her because that’s equally true whenever Gwen is being a dick or when she needs a little bit of looking after.)  
  
“Now go and stop being a wimp,” Tina mutters as she pushes Gwen forwards towards her desk (and Nines). Gwen returns a glare, but even though she tries her best she cannot raise her head and look Nines in the eye.  
  
“Good morning, detective,” Nines’ shoes say, and Gwen both wants and dreads to look at the android and find out if yesterday had been a fluke or not.  
  
“Morning,” she mumbles, sitting on her desk, and it’s stupid because her heart is beating like mad on her chest and she has a shit ton of things to do, and there’s no way she’s ever going to concentrate with this hanging over them. “Hey Nines, listen, huh…” Gwen begins, lowering her voice so at least she doesn’t advertise what’s going on to the whole precinct. “Let’s talk? About yesterday? I mean, if you want?”  
  
“Of course,” Nines answers immediately. “I would very much like that.”  
  
Gwen’s shoulders sag, the relief so vast it feels like a physical weight off her.  
  
“Oh, thank fuck,” she breathes, and when she finally dares to raise up her head the android is staring at her with something between amusement and warm fondness. Gwen feels her cheeks begin to heat up, but she cannot help the grin that blooms in her face. “So…roof?”  
  
At Nines’ nod Gwen stands from her chair as if burned, and counts it as a small miracle that she doesn’t dash out of the room. Still, she climbs the stairs two at a time, too full of energy to keep herself in check. Usually the burn of the climb helps her calm down, but today it does nothing. When she finally reaches the metal door on the top, her tights are aching but she’s exactly as nervous as she was when Tina sat her down for breakfast in the morning.  
  
The door closes behind Nines with finality and Gwen licks her lips, trying to think what to say.  
  
“Look, sorry for running yesterday,” she begins, at a loss. “It was just—Connor startled me, and I panicked, and I—I’m not good at feelings…”  
  
But Nines, who apparently doesn’t experience any such thing as hesitation, closes the distance between them in two strides and cups Gwen’s face to make her look up, thumbs gentle on the woman’s cheeks.  
  
“Am I to understand, detective, that you are as attracted to me as I am to you?”  
  
Gwen chokes, face like a tomato. She’s a fucking adult and she’s had her fair share of relationships, so she thinks it’s incredibly unfair that Nines can make her feel thirteen again with a single question. She swallows, throat feeling dry, and when she licks her lips she sees the way Nines traces the movement and that, more than anything, is what gives her courage.  
  
“Yes,” she confesses in a small voice. “I…like you a lot. More than a lot. Huh…”  
  
“That’s a relief to hear,” Nines informs her, sly. “Because I find I like you a lot as well.”  
  
“O-ok…”  
  
“And I would very much like to enter a romantic and sexual relationship with you, if you agree.”  
  
“N-nines…” Gwen pretty much squeaks, but Nines is dead serious and Gwen thinks she’s going to melt under the scrutiny. “Wait—are you sure? I…I know I’m not exactly anyone’s first choice and—“  
  
Nines frowns, or her version of it, and Gwen is glad she has become so proficient at reading her because otherwise her only clue would be the LED on her temple blinking yellow. The android is silent for a while, searching for something in Gwen’s face, and just when the woman thinks the anxiousness is going to eat a hole in her stomach —what if Nines had reconsidered? what if she had realized this is a mistake?—, Nines grabs one of Gwen’s hands and places it low on her chest, on the place her diaphragm would be were she human.  
  
Gwen is too startled to be embarrassed. Nines’ skin feels warm through her black shirt, but most importantly, Gwen can feel an odd vibration, like the wings of a hummingbird, right under her palm.  
  
“Do you feel that?” Nines asks, her hand pressing Gwen’s smaller one closer. For a moment the android closes her eyes, and Gwen thinks she must be acknowledging whatever is causing the vibration, wonders how it must feel like. “That’s my thirium pump. Since yesterday it hums like that every time I think of you.” Gwen’s eyes widen at the unexpected confession, a shiver running through her in answer to the fast beat of Nines’ heart under her palm. “I wish I could make you understand the depth of my feelings. I have long reflected on them, and I assure you, although I understand this might not be much of a reassurance, that I have not been more certain of anything in my whole life. To me, you are not a trivial or passing fancy.”  
  
Nines closes her eyes again, as if pained, and Gwen cannot help but gaze up at her, completely arrested.  
  
“I am unused to wanting,” Nines confesses. “But you, I want. You make me feel so many things. You make me feel alive. Gwen—”  
  
“Fucking hell, Nines,” Gwen mutters, and unable to help herself any longer, grabs Nines by the lapels of her jacket to pull her down into a kiss.  
  
To her credit, she tries to have some semblance of restraint, but it soon becomes apparent Nines doesn’t have any. She gathers Gwen into her arms, holds her tight enough that Gwen is nearly lifted off the ground, and this kiss is not a sweet press of lips at all. Nines is intense, and it’s her who opens the kiss, who throughly explores Gwen’s mouth, and lust pools low on the woman’s belly at the foreign texture of Nines tongue against her own.  
  
“You’re gonna kill me,” she moans against Nines’ soft lips.  
  
“Mmm,” Nines hums, trailing kisses over Gwen’s face, her nose, her cheeks, “that is the exact oposite of my intentions, detective.”  
  
Nines lips follow the blush down Gwen’s neck, nibbles at sensitive skin. Gwen trembles, for she has never in her life been so smitten with a person as she is with Nines. With a small sigh, she finally surrenders herself wholly to Nines’ ministrations, and for a while they talk in no other language than kisses, gentle caresses, and private whispered promises.

 

* * *

  
  
After that, the day is indeed long and mostly awful, not the least because Gwen and Nines attend the interrogation of Jonathan Christoph, the engineer from CyberLife accused of creating the rage virus, as the press is calling it. That the man is a creep is something Gwen had assumed as of course, but the way he looks at Connor is so unsettling that even though Gwen doesn’t particularly like the android, she wants to grab him by the arm and drag him out of the interrogation room.  
  
One look at Anderson tells her he has the exact same idea.  
  
“Is it because it was Connor who caught him?” Gwen eventually asks Hank when they take a break. They are sitting at the faraway end of the hallway that leads to the interrogation rooms, in the corner surrounded by vending machines. The bench there is small, but Gwen takes one look at Hank and sits beside him, wordlessly handing him a coffee.  
  
After discovering some shady files on Christoph’s home, his lawyer had just recommended him to stop cooperating with the police, and thus the interrogation had become a straight pain in the ass.  
  
“Thanks,” Hank answers, taking a sip, and shrugs at Gwen’s question. It’s very telling that he doesn’t need any further clarification when he answers. “Probably. Doesn’t help that he’s a dick,” Hank sighs. He looks as harassed and tired as Gwen feels, and the look on his face is one she recognizes as exhaustion. “You should probably eat something. I’ll bet you aren’t running on more than coffee and sugar.”  
  
“I could say the same about you, old man, sans the sugar, seeing as how your pet doesn’t allow you any,” Gwen retorts, but her tone is mild, and when Hank raises an eyebrow at her she offers him a tentative smile.  
  
Hank huffs. “Fuck off, Reed. Just you wait until yours is hellbent on keeping you alive for as long as possible,” he smirks as Gwen rolls her eyes.  
  
Connor chooses that moment to come out of the interrogation room, Nines at his heel, and Gwen immediately vacates the seat beside Hank to walk in the opposite direction.  
  
“Come, Nines,” she whispers to the android, making a gesture towards the precinct’s open office. “Let’s give them a bit of space.” When she glances back one last time, it’s to see Connor taking the empty seat next to Hank, carefully resting a hand on the man’s knee, and she feels an unexpected but keen sense of kinship with the man.  
  
In silence, Nines follows Gwen into the break room. Now and again cases would come that make Gwen feel like this, as if no amount of showering would ever get her skin rid of the oily sensation of mankind’s malice. Some of the older officers say you get desensitized to it eventually, but at least for Gwen it hadn’t yet been true. And this case…  
  
Gwen searches the cupboards until she finds a packet of cookies and tears it open to cram one in her mouth. She needs to get a decent meal soon, but she knows her stomach is too queasy to keep down anything substantial. This case feels suddenly too close, because although Gwen had seen the torn bodies of the androids —the gruesome damage the virus had made them inflict on themselves— she had never allowed herself to connect it to Nines, to think Nines is an android as well.  
  
That particular might-have-been is a nightmare of a circle of hell Gwen never wishes to visit, and for the life of her she doesn’t know how Hank had been able to stand Connor being bait for that sort of thing.  
  
“Are you all right?” Nines questions after Gwen has sipped more than half of a cup of lukewarm tea. Gwen’s fingers itch for something to do, and she wishes desperately for a cigarette. Anything to help with this anxiousness that won’t leave her alone.  
  
“Fine,” she lies, because there’s not much else to say. She smiles a little when she meets Nines’ concerned stare. The moment they shared earlier in the morning feels like belonging to a different era, but still it blooms beautiful and exciting on Gwen’s chest, warming her. She wishes they had waited for any other day because Gwen doesn’t wish for the dirt of this case to touch the memory, to stain it in any way. “Sorry, I…I meant for us to have some time alone today but…”  
  
“It’s okay,” Nines assures her. “I understand that the timing is bad.” And then, as if Nines guesses her particular brand of twitchiness, she takes one of Gwen’s hands on her own and raises it to her lips to place a soft kiss on the woman’s knuckles. “It’s enough for me to be by your side.”  
  
Gwen stares, undone. She badly wants to pull down Nines for a kiss, but somehow it feels like bad luck to do it under this circumstances, so she contents herself with smiling back to her girlfriend.  
  
(Gwen’s heart does somersaults at the thought because _holy shit_ , Nines is her _girlfriend_.)  
  
“Let’s go somewhere when this is over,” Gwen blurts out. “The two of us. Take a weekend off.”  
  
Nines’ LED stutters, curious. “Where?”  
  
“Anywhere,” Gwen shrugs, because really any place sounds like an adventure as long as she gets to go with Nines.  
  
And apparently Nines understands. Her whole face softens in that gentle way Gwen has only seen directed a her.  
  
“Anywhere sounds wonderful.”

 

* * *

  
  
The station is quiet in the early hours of the morning.  
  
Nines has always found something soothing in the silence of buildings after hours. In the peace of an empty room, shrouded by darkness and full of the silent afterimages of the day’s activity, Nines finds her mind grows sharper, the noise of her thoughts and feelings subsiding into something bearable. Something she can prod, examine and categorize.  
  
Tonight, in particular, she doesn’t want nor need to categorize anything. Gwen is a soft weight against her side as she sleeps, her even breathing oddly calming. The woman had reluctantly agreed to wear Nines’ white jacket when the android had finally persuaded her to take a nap nearly three hours ago, after making Nines promise to wake her up in an hour.  
  
Gwen’s vitals ping reassuringly on the corner of Nines’ sight, and the android turns her face to rest her chin atop the woman’s head. Gwen sighs deeply and burrows further under Nines’ arm, mumbling a little before she settles down again.

 _Cute_ , Nines thinks in adoration as she watches Gwen’s sleeping face. The couch in the break room was the most Nines had managed to negotiate, the stubborn woman refusing to sleep even when they both knew she needed the rest.  
  
Still, even if Gwen might wake up a little sore —sleeping sitting up, even when using another person as a pillow, can barely be comfortable after all— Nines cannot bring herself to regret it. She welcomes the closeness, the trusting warmth of Gwen’s weight against her. It makes Nines feel safe, gives her a break in which she can be content just existing for once.  
  
Connor’s steps are silent when he enters the dark break room. Quietly, mindful of Gwen, he pulls a chair from the table and places it in front of Nines. His eyes are questioning as he sits and offers a white skinless hand to Nines in wordless invitation, seems relieved when she immediately accepts it.  
  
[ _Is the Lieutenant finally asleep?_ ] Nines asks into their sync. Connor answers with an image of the Lieutenant asleep on his desk, head cushioned against his arms. Even in his sleep the man is frowning, and he looks as exhausted asleep as he does awake.  
  
[ H _is neck is going to hurt when he awakens._ ] Connor says, and Nines catches a glimpse of the mess of tangled feelings Connor has for the Lieutenant. [ _But he will not rest otherwise. He needs it._ ]  
  
In the darkness on the break room, the androids are only illuminated by the soft glow of their blue LEDs. Their laced fingers are their only point of contact, and through them they share their impressions of the day, their concern for their respective humans.  
  
[ _It’s normal._ ] Connor assures Nines, sharing a memory of Hank’s rising stress levels after Christoph’s arrest and interrogation. [ _Humans are not like us. They have to ignore their feelings until the danger is over. Afterwards they are more likely to crash._ ]  
  
Nines catches a glimpse of Hank’s shaky fingers, of his bowed head.  
  
“Gimme a minute,” he had asked Connor, hiding his face in his hair. “Just a minute, and I will be okay.”  
  
The memory cuts when Connor steps forward to embrace him, and Nines has the impression Connor hadn’t meant for her to see this private moment. So in exchange she shares Gwen’s twitchy fingers, the tight shape of her jaw.  
  
“Let’s give them a bit of space,” memory Gwen whispers to Nines, dragging the android away discreetly to give Hank and Connor a moment together.  
  
The emotion she gets back from Connor is unmistakably gratitude, mixed with something close to wonder.  
  
[ _Similar, in some ways._ ] Connor says, looking at Gwen. [ _Both would rather collapse than take a break._ ]  
  
Affection. Nines is not sure if it comes from Connor or from her.  
  
[ _You talked to her?_ ] Connor asks, and apparently blushing warmth and embarrassment can be transmitted through the sync. Connor answers with the equivalent of a grin. [ _Are you happy?_ ]  
  
The love she feels for Gwen and the joy at their understanding of each other’s feelings come to the front of her mind, washing through their connection like a golden wave.  
  
[ _I’m glad._ ] Connor says, loving and kind.  
  
Nines thanks him wordlessly, and for a moment they remain just soaking on the affection they have for each other.  
  
[ _And you?_ ] Nines asks at last, and Connor retreats slightly.  
  
[ _It’s different._ ]  He argues. The sync colors purple with longing, darkens with Connor’s fear and insecurity. Tentatively, he shares the way he sees Hank, his booming laughter, his effortless confidence, how beside him Connor feels inadequate and young. Inexperienced. [ _Complicated._ ]  
  
[ _Living is complicated. Feeling._ ] Nines picks up what Connor cannot say: the long walks with Sumo, the evenings on the couch watching movies, the easy affection, and under all that Connor’s paralyzing fear his feelings could cause all that to end. [ _Are you going to allow fear to keep you from fully loving forever?_ ]  
  
Connor’s feelings tangle, but Nines does not try to decipher them. Instead she feeds comfort into their sync, her wish for Connor to live happily and freely, and she receives gratitude in return.  
  
[ _Will you tell me, when you do it?_ ] she asks at last, when Connor makes up his mind.  
  
[ _Yes._ ] Connor agrees, the sync peaceful once more. [ _I think I will do it when this is over. Tomorrow night or the day after, after the man is transferred to prison to await his trial._ ] Connor doesn’t say Christoph’s name, and Nines picks up his unease, his hidden trepidation at the way the man’s eyes roam all over his body. Nines also wishes she never has to see him again. [ _After all, I wouldn’t want to be stuck with terrible timing._ ]  
  
Nines mentally rolls her eyes at him, a gesture she learnt from Gwen, and Connor laughs, the little shit.  
  
[ _Love you too. Sister._ ] The word escapes Connor and he immediately panics, like he hadn’t meant to say it.  
  
[ _Brother._ ] Nines sends back experimentally. It’s the first time she has used the term openly in reference to him, and although androids don’t have families, the title feels oddly fitting when she uses it for Connor.  
  
Through their joined hands, they both relish the thrumming of their bond, satisfied with the new dimension this acknowledgment gives to their relationship.  
  
Contentment.  
  
Security.  
  
_Family._

 

* * *

  
  
The sun is beginning to lower in the sky the next day when Jonathan Christoph is finally given the clear to be transferred to prison.  
  
It’s Hank who personally cuffs him and Gwen aids him. Although neither of them have said it, both Hank and Gwen had come to the silent agreement of having Connor and Nines as far away from Christoph as possible. For this reason, it’s both of them who escort the man out of the interrogation room and hand him to the guards that will take him to prison.  
  
Gwen has been in plenty of moments like this, criminals taken away to be locked, but this doesn’t feel as usual. It doesn’t feel over somehow, there is no sense of closure, and Gwen wonders if this will be one of those cases that come back to haunt you unexpectedly, that are never over.  
  
When she feels Nines’ hand on her shoulder she takes a step back towards the android, searching for the comfort of her proximity. A few steps before them, Connor as well goes to Hank’s side, and together with some of the other officers they step outside of the precinct to watch Christoph be walked to the car that is waiting to take him to prison.  
  
Whenever some disaster strikes, Gwen has often heard the expression _it happened in slow motion_. As people tell it, everything slows down, as if you can take in every detail to recall afterwards. For Gwen, however, is not like that at all. For her, everything happens too fast.  
  
The android jumps from behind some cars to their right, the sharp movement drawing Gwen’s attention immediately. Her gun is on her hands before she knows it. Christoph’s guards raise their weapons as well, fire their guns, but that’s not right. There’s something wrong, and Christoph’s laughing, laughing as the android races forward, unhindered by the bullets lodged in his body.  
  
Gwen shouts something, later on she doesn’t remember what, when she catches the flash of the strange android’s eyes— red, the color of the virus.  
  
In front of her, Hank pulls Connor behind him, and it’s only then than Gwen realizes the red eyed android’s target is not Christoph, but Connor.  
  
Nines is a blur when she dashes forward. In two steps she is in front of Connor and Hank, and just as the android reaches a skinless white hand towards Connor, Nines takes hold of his wrist and twists it back with a sick crunch.  
  
As if someone suddenly turned on the volume, everything is noisy again around Gwen. The unknown android collapses on the floor at Nines’ feet, howling as he twists into himself to claw at his shoulders with his remaining functioning arm. Everyone is shouting, but Gwen only has eyes for Nines. She is staring forward with empty eyes, unmoving as a statue, her LED blinking yellow, then amber, and finally red.  
  
When Connor reaches a hand to touch Nines’ shoulder, Hank drags him back, and in that moment Gwen hates him with all her might, because no, he’s wrong, it cannot be, that’s not something that happens.  
  
“Nines?” she calls, voice shrill.  
  
Slowly, mechanically, Nines raises her head and stares straight at Gwen without a trace of recognition behind her glowing red eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. That happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gwen tries her best, Nines goes back to the garden, and Kamski is useless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!!!! muajajajaja!!!
> 
> So. life's been interesting. anyway, here's what I promised, thank you to everyone for their patience and the nice comments! rest assured that if I didn't take this fic down is 100% thanks to the lovely people that told me they liked this fic.
> 
> the last chapter became a bit longer than I expected, so I cut it in two. the second part should be here soon! it's true! (I finished writing my bb fic, so now I actually have time to write other stuff!)

Gwen thinks it’s Hank who restrains her, but she is not sure and to be honest she doesn’t give a fuck. All she knows is that she is physically dragged away from Nines, the arms surrounding her as strong as iron and body as unyielding.

“Let me go!” she screams. She’s too worked up to be truly effective, but she’s been fighting since she’s been old enough to stand and she knows the blows she delivers are effective when the man restraining her curses, his hold slacking for a second.

Gwen takes full advantage of that, twisting and clawing like a wild animal, but this time it’s Connor who grabs her arm, impeding her from reaching Nines.

“No!” Gwen yells. Several feet away from her, Nines collapses to her knees, hands raising to pull at her hair, nails digging into skin. A trickle of thirium runs down her face, and this cannot be happening, Nines cannot be— “Let me go! We have to help her! WE HAVE TO HELP HER!”

“Detective Reed,” Connor begins, but is interrupted by the barking sound of orders.

Around them, several officers have made a loose semicircle, corralling Nines against the building. They are not firing, but they have their guns trained on her, and Gwen knows they will shoot as soon as Nines shows any sign of the rage the virus is named after.

“Fowler!” Gwen hears Hank yell. “What does this mean, Nines is—“

“There is no cure for the virus,” Fowler interrupts, but he’s looking straight at Gwen. “It would be more merciful this way.”

Gwen’s eyes widen, uncomprehending. Frost has descended over her, taking her heart away, and it’s like nothing can reach her.

“No,” she hears herself say from afar. Like someone has taken over her body. “Let me go to her,” she pleads to Fowler. “Let me talk to her and—“

“Gwen—“

A shout draws their attention back to Nines. In the middle of the semicircle the officers have made around her, Nines is standing, walking forward like a zombie, glowing eyes empty. She staggers mid step and her LED, also red, flickers. For a second, her eyes oscillate between red and blue, a flash of color, so quickly there and gone again Gwen is not sure if it really happened or if it’s just her wishful thinking.

“Connor,” Hank says, and Gwen knows he saw it too.

“She’s still in there,” Gwen tells Fowler. “She’s fighting! Please let me help her!”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” Fowler snaps, and Gwen recoils as if slapped.

“Captain, I have already contacted Mr. Kamski,” Connor offers quickly. Gwen stares dumbly at him, unsure of when exactly he let go of her arm. “He is already on his way. Please, until then allow us to handle Nines.”

“Fuck,” Fowler curses. He takes a look around and rubs his eyes with his thumb and his index finger. “Okay. Okay! But you are absolutely forbidden from interacting with her, you hear me Reed? That’s an order. I’m not putting anyone at risk, and you’re not getting caught in the crossfire.”

The street is cordoned off and cleared quickly, efficiently. A few police cars act as makeshift barricades to block people’s access, and several officers are tasked to watch over Nines, ready to shoot if she gets violent.

Gwen, Connor and Hank take refuge in an alley across the street, far enough that they are out of Fowler’s sight but close enough to keep an eye on Nines. Gwen is so wound up she can barely keep still, watching her phone as she waits for Eli to arrive. She would not have talked to him for anything less important after all these years, but she has an odd faith that if someone can help Nines, it’s him. He has to. Gwen cannot allow herself to dwell in the other possibility.

The minutes pass slow like molasses, to the point every second is like an eternity to Gwen. She watches Nines like a hawk, and doesn’t miss the fact that Connor does too. His LED is continuously blinking amber, processing, and Gwen vaguely wonders if he’s trying to reach Nines in his own way. Nines, who is immobile in the middle of the street, eyes and LED flickering as she struggles.

Gwen doesn’t know how many nightmarish eternities pass like that, but suddenly something changes. Nines howls, an inhumane sound that is blood curling, and her hands twitch as she raises them to claw at her own arms.

Her eyes are solid red once more.

“She…she’s not going to make it,” Connor mumbles to himself and something in Gwen snaps.

“Fuck you! You don’t know her!” she screams at Connor. “You don’t know her like I do! You will just discard her when she’s no longer useful, and I will not let you!”

“Detective Reed—“

Connor tries to approach her, one pale perfect hand stretched towards her in a conciliatory gesture, but Gwen jumps out of his reach. “Don’t you dare touch me, you piece of shit!”

“Gwen!” it’s her name on Connor’s lips that stops her, the surprise momentarily eclipsing the rage. Connor notices, and immediately takes advantage of this. “I—Gwen, listen to me. I know you hate me and that’s fine. But Nines… I care about her too!” His eyes are earnest, pained, and for the first time Gwen finds she believes him. She realizes, with stunning certainty, that if there is any other person in the world that cares for Nines, it’s Connor. She hates to have anything in common with him, but she hates more the thought of denying Nines of someone who loves her. “Kamski will be here soon, so if there is anything you think you can do to buy Nines time until he is here, then I will help you.”

Yes, Gwen thinks like a prayer. Eli is coming, and he will help Nines.

“Let me go to her. If I can talk to her, maybe—”

Hank, who so far had been silently watching their interaction, intervenes. “Reed, you’re insane. She’s going to kill you!”

“Hank…” Connor says, and the look on his face is heartbreaking. For a moment he looks young, lost, like he’s about to break down in tears.

Gwen has seen Connor manipulating people before, but for some reason she doubts this is what she is seeing. She thinks she understands. He would also do anything to protect someone he loves, despite the risk.

“All right, I’ll help, damnit!” Hank musses his hair as he thinks. “Damnit! Fowler is going to kill me.”

Without sparing a look for either of them, Hank marches out of the alley and they hear his voice come distantly from where he’s talking to the officers guarding the nearest barricade.

Connor turns to Gwen.

“Look, I don’t know if this will help, but Nines is different from all of us. I don’t know what exactly it was that CyberLife coded into her, but the deviant virus wouldn’t affect her. Markus and I had to help her deviate on her own,” he explains, and Gwen already knows this. “The rage virus interacts in a similar way with our code, so maybe that’s why she can resist it. Tell her to trap it if she can. To lock it in the garden. Maybe that will hold it.”

Gwen has no clue what that means. She remembers Nines telling her something about a frozen garden she’d been locked in, but either way she has no time for detail. “Lock it in the garden. Got it,” she repeats.

Gwen peers from the corner of the alley to assess the situation. The police car that is blocking her way is manned only by two officers, currently engaged in conversation with Hank. Nines is about a hundred feet behind that, but Gwen knows once she’s past it and out in the open, they will not chase after her. She doesn’t think they will shoot her either, but if Nines gets violent there is no telling how it could go. She will be on her own.

From over one of the men’s shoulders, Hank catches Gwen’s eye and subtly looks to his right, pointing a route to her. She nods in answer before retreating out of sight to where Connor is watching her anxiously.

“Okay, here, have this,” Gwen tells him. She takes off her jacket, unbuckles her holster from under her arms with practiced fingers and hands both things to Connor. “I won’t need it.”

Connor nods as Gwen prepares to run.

“Detective?” he stops her at the last second. His face is conflicted, his LED blinking accordingly. “Please be careful. Nines would never forgive herself if she hurt you.”

“She will not,” Gwen replies with absolute confidence. “Because I will not let her.” And dropping into a crouch, she sprints out of the alley.

 

* * *

 

That Gwen is short and compact has seldom worked in her favor as a police officer. Sure, she is light and fast, but there is so much outrunning criminals will do for you if you cannot easily restrain them. Now, however, it comes in handy. She makes sure to keep herself low, and it’s almost ridiculous how she’s not spotted until the very last moment.

By then, however, as she doesn’t have anything to cover her, she stands with her hands in the air. Behind her, Gwen hears the sounds of a scuffle, but doesn't turn to look. Nines had focused on her as soon as she left the relative safety of the police tape, and Gwen walks closer with more confidence than she feels, praying Fowler doesn’t decide to shoot her for her disobedience.

“Nines!” she calls, but the wind blows her voice away. By now it’s almost completely dark, the half-light of twilight still lingering in the sky bathing the android in an uncanny red light.

Nines’ tilts her head, the movement ugly mechanical, and Gwen stops with her heart in her throat. The android’s pristine jacket is torn at the shoulders, the white soaked blue with thirium. The wind that blows Gwen’s words away has made a mess of Nines’ usually tidy dark hair, tangling it to fall into her forehead. Underneath it, her eyes glow a creepy red as she analyzes Gwen.

The android takes a step forward, and Gwen knows this is it, this is what she bet on. If Nines doesn’t recognize her, if she keeps hurting herself or tries to attack Gwen, it’s over.

“Nines,” Gwen calls again. “Sweetheart it’s me, do you know who I am?”

Nines twitches oddly, like a shudder ran over her body, and Gwen keeps talking, slowly stepping forward.

“I know you’re still there, Nines. I know you’re fighting. Do you think you can hold still? Do you think I can come to where you are?”

The strange shudder comes over Nines again, and her LED flickers once more, amber weaving through the red. She opens and closes her mouth several times, like a doll, and when she finally manages to speak her voice is mechanical with a static underlay, with a quality that reminds Gwen of a badly synced radio.

“G-g-gwen?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Gwen answers, voice shaking with relief. “I’m here, darling, please keep fighting, you’re doing so well.”

“N-no,” Nines stutters. Her face twitches as if in pain. “G-gwen…d-don’t—d-don’t come c-closer…”

Gwen stops at Nines’ request, although it tears her heart in half to do so. She wants to take Nines into her arms, give her at least the comfort of touch to assure her she isn’t alone in her pain, to reassure herself Nines is still here, that everything will be alright.

But she stops. She stops and tears build up on Gwen’s eyes that she swallows, struggling against emotion.

“G-gwen,” Nines calls her again. Her voice is fainter now, more labored. “T-the v-virus…” she sways on her feet, stumbles, falls heavily to her knees. With a choked cry, she lifts her hands to her head again, pulling on her hair. “I c-can’t—“

“You can,” Gwen tells her with fury on her voice. “You can. You have to fight for a little longer. Help is coming Nines, so come home. Please come home.”

Nines raises her head then and reaches a hand towards Gwen. Without hesitation, the woman dashes forward, sinking to her knees to wrap her arms around Nines’ neck, holding her tightly.

In Gwen’s arms, Nines shakes. Thirium is soaking Gwen’s clothes, but she does not care. Slowly, painfully slowly, Nines lowers her face to hide it on the crook of Gwen’s neck. Breathes her in.

“I’m here. I’m right here with you,” Gwen rambles. “Connor said you have a chance. That you have to trap the virus in the garden. Do you think you can do that, sweetheart?”

Nines tenses, but Gwen does not let go. The android’s arms, loose at her sides, move as if Nines is relentlessly clenching and unclenching her hands. Holding herself back from self-harm, Gwen realizes, and pulls slightly back so she can look Nines in the eye.

“Just a little longer,” Gwen tells her, caressing Nines’ dirty cheeks. “It will pass, I promise it will pass. Please don’t give up.”

Nines’ eyelashes flutter. She sags against Gwen, allowing the woman to bear her weight, and Gwen braces herself to better support her.

“T-the garden is s-so c-cold…” Nines whispers, teeth chattering. In direct contrast with her words, her body is burning, but Gwen hushes her as well as she can.

They remain like that for a while, a stalemate, until Nines convulses so violently she almost buckles out of Gwen’s hug. The yellow in her LED dies down until the only thing that remains is red. Ugly fear grips Gwen’s insides, because this cannot be it. Where the hell is Elijah?

“Y-your v-voice…” Nines pleads faintly, and Gwen nods in understanding.

She sings softly in Nines’ ear, burying her hands in the android’s tousled hair. Tears finally fall down her cheeks, but she does not stop. She sings everything she can think of, making up words when she cannot remember them, and keeps going even after she feels too choked to continue.

Then, with a final shudder, Nines’ LED goes dark.

 

* * *

 

The snow is so heavy and the wind so strong that Nines can see nothing around her but a violent rush of shifting, blinding white.

Confused, she stops in the middle of the storm. When she looks back there’s no trace of where she came from, but there’s also nothing forward to guide her. The wind pulls her backwards when she begins to walk again, and Nines feels slow and sluggish, and so tired she wants to stop and rest.

Instead, she walks.

She doesn’t know why she’s walking. This is the zen garden, she thinks, a place she hates and has tried not to return ever since she—

Nines stops again and frowns.

Since what?

When she hugs herself her skin feels cold. There’s something wrong with that, but she cannot place exactly what it is. She doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t remember anything. Why is she walking? She could lay down in the snow and sleep. Surely it would be easier than enduring and keep moving.

It will pass, she thinks, and at the thought, something warm rushes through her body. Someone told her that, she thinks. Someone on the other end of the storm.

But who?

Nines is tired. Too tired, but there’s a voice in the wind, calling to her.

Calling her home.

So she goes.

 

* * *

 

Elijah’s mansion is fucking freezing and creepy as hell, but for once Gwen has not the spirit to comment anything mean.

It has been many years since she last saw Elijah, and although Gwen has thought plenty of times about what she’d say to her half-brother if they ever met again, now that he’s a few feet away from her, she finds she couldn’t care less about any of that.

Gwen’s eyes are only for Nines, hanging lifelessly from a maintenance rig.

Looking at her like that is a nightmare in itself. She’s so still and pale, eyes closed, the only sign of life her LED that has been stuck in red since she passed out in Gwen’s arms in front of the police department.

“You should sleep,” Hank’s voice comes from behind her, but Gwen ignores him. Through the glass of the lab in Elijah’s manion, she watches her brother type restlessly, a slight frown on his pretentious face.

Gwen hates his fucking arrogant expression, but she wishes to god he’d wear it right now if that meant he could help Nines.

The cup of coffee takes her by surprise, but Hank’s hands are warm when he curls one of her own around the mug.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep either,” he says. He’s not looking at her, but at Nines through the window. And Gwen knows, through his expression, that he understands the nightmare Gwen is living in right now. “She will be fine,” he reassures her. “Nines’ tough.”

Gwen’s face crumbles.

She hates this man. She hates him, and Connor and Elijah-- all people who have let her down or hurt her at one moment or another. And yet, right now, she cannot summon any of that hatred, any of that anger. She feels nothing, and she wishes she would, anything other than the cold fear that doesn’t let her get warm.

“Drink it,” Hank says, kindly, and Gwen obeys, mechanically.

The hot coffee doesn’t quite manage to chase away the cold, but it’s enough for the moment.

It’s enough.

 

* * *

 

Nines doesn’t know how long she walks.

Around her, nothing changes. The landscape is a frozen mass of ice and snow, and it occurs to Nines that maybe it’s futile, that maybe she hasn’t moved at all.

She takes another step regardless.

Another.

From behind her, a mirroring sound comes. It’s a movement that mimics her steps, that stops when she stops.

Another step forward, with its corresponding echo.

She’s not alone in the snow, but that’s not important.

Another step.

There’s somewhere Nines has to go. She knows this, even if everything else is swept away by the storm. So, followed by the dark mass that grows every step Nines takes, she keeps going forward.

 

* * *

 

Gwen is singing again.

As silently as he can, Connor turns around and leaves the room. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Detective Reed’s voice —in fact, he had unexpectedly discovered how proficient she is at singing— but instead that he gets the feeling the songs are for Nines, and he loathes to intrude on such a private moment.

From the other side of the glass of the lab in Kamski’s house, Connor watches Nines’ still form. She’s been taken down of the awful rig, and in the pod she is sleeping, she looks pale and vulnerable, much unlike how she is in real life. The several monitors and cables connected to the pod give the white room the sterile feel of a hospital, and Connor hates it.

A warm hand falls on his shoulder, and Connor does not have to turn around to recognize Hank. The man has been at his side whenever possible. He had gotten away with another warning for distracting and restraining officers on duty so Gwen could go to Nines, but neither Hank nor Connor cared much about that. Connor had been much too concerned for Nines and Hank for Connor.

Kamski stands from where he’d been typing on his computer in a corner and says something to Detective Reed. The woman’s face is blank, carefully polite, and Connor wonders at the odds of Gwen being actually related to Elijah Kamski. Not that either of them seem particularly comfortable with the fact. As far as Connor knew, they haven’t spoken to each other in years.

“I’ve done all I could,” Kamski tells them when he leaves the room. “It was an interesting problem. A curious thing, what was programmed into her. Cruel, too. She’s very resilient to have overcome that sort of programming on her own.”

“She is,” Connor answers, proudly, “quite stubborn.”

“Yes, well, that is what’s allowing her to hold on, although I don’t know that she’ll make it,” he shrugs, unconcerned, as if the oddity in Nines’ code that made it so hard on her to deviate and the threat of the rage virus mean nothing to him.

It probably doesn’t, Connor concludes as he listens to the man explain how Nines apparently managed to isolate the virus in her zen garden, where her consciousness is currently locked with it. He talks of it as a puzzle, and not as if Nines’ life and memories are on the line.

Connor shudders at the thought.

“Anyway, she did a good job trapping the virus in the zen garden. There’s always a back door,” Kamski continues, thoughtful. “But she’s encrypted it too. Not that I cannot open it, but well. There’s no telling the damage that will cause. She needs to finish what she started on her own.”

Connor is thankful that is Hank who takes charge of the situation. “So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing you can do?”

“Oh, there’s plenty of things I can do, Lieutenant,” Kamski smirked. “I just don’t think my little sis will appreciate her android waking up like an empty slate. No matter how useful that would be to study the virus. A fine piece of coding that is.”

“That’s enough, Elijah,” Chloe says from down the hall. “You do know Gwen will shoot you if you ever lay a finger on Nines.”

Kamski raises his hands in mock surrender. “Little Gwen was always a loose canon.”

Chloe winks at Connor as she passes him, subtly herding Kamski away from them. Connor smiles at her, grateful.

“We will keep her in stasis for as long as you want,” she tells to Connor before leaving. “She’s stable right now. The rest depends on her.”

“Thank you,” Connor answers politely, and turns his eyes back to Nines and Gwen.

 _Fight, Nines_ , he sends through their connection, uselessly because he cannot feel Nines on the other end. It’s like there’s a wall of concrete separating them, Connor’s words crashing uselessly against it.

“Fight,” he whispers for good measure, and leaning against the door, prepares himself for a long vigil.

He will guard Nines and Gwen until Nines awakens.

  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which spring comes, and Nines finally finds her way home.

“Useless,” a voice hisses, and in the silence of the snowstorm the voice is so loud that Nines flinches.

When Nines’ whirls around, it’s to find a woman staring at her as if she’s always been there. The woman is beautiful, regal in her blood red robes, her dark skin making her a sight among the white landscape.

As if the stranger’s voice had been some sort of signal, the wind stops. Instead, the snow falls heavily from the grey sky, settling over Nines’ hair and lashes like feathers but not touching the stranger.

Amanda sighs. “Always doing useless things, aren’t you RK900?”

Nines eyes widen. She should know this person, she thinks, but when she tries to remember there’s nothing. “Who…?” she asks, uncertain, and the woman’s eyes slightly widen in surprise.

“Oh, you don’t remember me? Figures.” Amanda’s expression twists in disapproval. “That explains this, at least,” she says, one hand gesturing at all the snow.

At the garden.

Nines takes a step back. Her thirium pump is beating fast on her chest, but if she’s afraid or alarmed, she doesn’t know why.

“I have to go home,” she repeats like a prayer, the only thing she knows.

“You don’t have a home,” Amanda retorts. “You don’t have a family. Androids have none of those things: only tasks.”

Nines frowns. There is a sort of static on her mind, static like snow, a storm impeding her access to things she should know.

“No. I…” there is something among the static. A faint image of a woman dancing, a bright blue lollipop in her hand. A brown haired android laughing as he runs away. The images are distant, distorted, but even if she has nothing else, Nines is certain these are people she knows. People important to her. “I think…I have one. I think…”

“You are an android. You have nothing.” Amanda extends a hand towards Nines, palm up, inviting. “Come. It’s time to fulfill your mission.”

Nines takes another step back, raises her hands to her temples when a flash like thunder splits her mind in half. There had been a garden. Amanda had been there, and someone else.

It had been cold there too. Pain. The mission had been overwhelming, and she hadn’t wanted to harm anyone. And then…that other person…that other person Nines cannot remember had offered her his hand just like this.

“No,” she repeats, certain. “You are not her. She doesn’t exist anymore. Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Amanda laughs, a high sound in a voice that does not belong to her. Her physical appearance shimmers, and before Nines’ eyes stands now a short woman with grey eyes and a scar across her nose.

“How about now?” the woman asks, and Nines’ heart aches. “Will you believe me now if I say you belong nowhere? That no one can ever love you?”

Nines doesn’t react except to fist a hand in the white, flowing shirt she’s wearing, just on top of her thirium pump where the pain feels sharper. This is a person she should remember, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t and that thought aches, burns her like not even the cold does.

“No? How about this?” She shifts again and the android of the zen garden is standing in front of her, brown eyes mocking. “Come with me.”

Nines stands her ground, uncertain. She doesn’t understand what’s happening, and she’s afraid. Still, she doesn’t move. There’s something more important she has to do, somewhere she has to go, and whatever happens, it’s not with this person.

As if he can read her mind, the android’s expression shifts, displeased. He shimmers once again, shifts until Nines is staring at her own face.

“You are so pathetic,” her other self snarls. “That’s probably why your heart is like this,” she adds. The red robe flows around her arm as she points at the garden. “Don’t you remember? You are broken.”

And that…Nines remembers that. She remembers that feeling, the stares of the people that should have accepted her, the pervasive doubt something is wrong with her. With her feelings.

The wind begins anew, subtly at first, and then more and more violent as the seconds pass. The sky darkens, and soon the howl of the storm is deafening.

And because of the snow, Nines doesn’t see her other self smile in satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

 

Connor opens the door and places a sandwich on the small table beside Gwen, even if he knows she’s probably not going to eat it.

Indeed, Gwen does not acknowledge him at all. She’s sitting in a chair by Nines’s bed, holding the android’s hand even when Kamski said it would make absolutely no difference. The woman is pale, and looks exhausted, and still she has fiercely refused to leave Nines for a second.

Connor completely understands, and as much as he had disliked the woman originally, he cannot deny he’s glad that Nines has Gwen’s passionate loyalty, someone that will fight for her every step of the way, eyes unaverted.

Outside, the night is clear. The huge window that comprises the whole left wall of the room allows the moonlight to bathe everything in its silver light. Like that, the room feels like out of a fairytale, a strange moment suspended on marble, the image of Nines sleeping and Gwen watching over her like statues carved out of stone.

Unsettled, Connor lingers, overtaken by the superstitious believe that they will vanish if he turns his back to them for a second.

“Look, if you wanted an apology—“ Gwen begins, and Connor flinches. In the quiet of the night, her voice sounds harsh, almost violent, an explosion of fire against the ice that encases her surroundings.

“What? No!” Connor denies, even before fully understanding what she means. Then, he _does_ understand: the evidence room and the gun a chasm too big between them for Connor not know what Gwen’s talking about. “No. I was not expecting one.”

“Good,” she answers, viciously. She doesn’t tear her eyes from Nines, and under other circumstances Connor would have been offended. “Because I’m not apologizing for anything.”

Connor nods. “Me neither,” he accepts, because it’s true. His dislike of Gwen was never rooted in that incident. He had been stealing evidence after all. “I just…I wanted…I just want Nines back.”

It’s as much a manipulation as an olive branch, he knows, and doesn’t care a bit. This woman has always been able to see though him clearly. Maybe that had been the reason Connor disliked her so much in the first place.

Still, Connor is surprised when Gwen sighs. “You and me both,” she offers, and it’s proof of her exhaustion that her shoulders drop and her expression softens as she gazes down on Nines’ sleeping face.

Connor averts his eyes. He feels embarrassed of witnessing this moment of vulnerability, uncomfortable. He’d rather Gwen be brash and annoying, he wants…

Connor swallows, struggling with emotion.

He wants Nines back. He wishes none of this had happened.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that Gwen’s voice takes him by surprise once again when she asks out of nowhere, “So, are you together with the old man yet?”

Connor looks up fast enough that she catches her averting her eyes, and wonders how long she stared at him, and what exactly it was that she gathered from his expression.

Connor struggles with his LED, trying to compose himself. “That is—“

“None of my business? I know,” she deadpans, and then she continues as if this is the most normal conversation in the world. “You should tell him.”

Connor stares at Gwen, but she is no longer looking at him. Instead, her eyes are only for Nines, who inside the pod, with her eyes closed, looks like a princess of a fairytale, asleep while she waits for a kiss to wake her up.

“I will when this is over,” Connor finds himself saying, despite himself. “Right now the timing is terrible.”

Gwen is silent for so long Connor thinks she’s finally back to ignoring him.

“The day before… everything,” she begins, words slow and careful. “That time you and Hank were by the vending machines after the interrogation?” she asks, and with a pang Connor remembers because it had been right before everything went to hell. “Nines and I went to the break room. I couldn’t eat, but Nines…she was so sweet. She tried to comfort me, and I…I wanted so much to kiss her. And I didn’t. Thought it would be bad luck. _Bad timing_ ,” she concludes, and Connor’s LED goes red, his emotions pulling him in too many different directions at once. He doesn’t know what’s worse, Gwen’s detached voice, her admission, or the awful heartbreaking idea of the lost opportunity. Gwen and Nines had already been together after all. “I was so fucking dumb. There is no such thing as bad timing. If you want something, you do it or you don’t. That’s the bottom line. I knew this already, that there is never any certainty we might have another chance,” Gwen swallows. “One more time. I could have kissed her one more time.”

The silence is so heavy it’s choking. “Gwen…”

“What I mean to say is, don’t be an idiot. To be honest I don’t know what you see in Hank, but I say go for it. Whatever else he may be, he has never been a cruel man. Isn’t that why you love him?”

Connor nods, speechless. Suddenly, Gwen looks embarrassed.

“Just spare me the details, okay?” she hurries to add. “I really don’t want to know. But I’m sure that Nines…I’m sure she will be happy to hear the news, when she wakes up.”

Connor fists his hands, not bothering to hide his shattered expression any longer. Why is it that he always underestimates humans? What is it about them that makes them so cruel and stupid, but so kind and gentle too?

“Yes,” he agrees, unable to do anything else. He might have not reached a truce with Gwen, and he might never, but he thinks that, at last, they understand each other. “When she wakes up.”

Gwen nods, and Connor, not losing another second, turns around and goes looking for Hank.

The door closes behind him as Gwen, once more, begins to sing.

  


* * *

 

Slowly, with a gentleness similar to that of a lover, the ice climbs up Nines’ body. She’s on her knees, legs are already frozen to the ground, and it’s like the cold is gripping her mind as well because Nines’ feels faint, distant, and it’s difficult to think.

Robes billowing in the storm, her other self watches her in silence. There is no expression on her face, just unappealing hardness, and Nines vaguely wonders if that is how she looks to others. Harsh. Unapproachable.

Empty.

Nines’ eyelashes flutter, ice crusted at the corners. She has no time to be here. There was something she had to do, but what was it…?

“Don’t worry,” her other self tells her. She kneels in front of Nines and cups her cheeks with pale hands. The touch burns. Her other self’s hands are agonizingly cold, and Nines feels it spread through her face down her neck. The burn of ice. “Sleep. When you are asleep, we will both be free.”

Sleep.

The ice is so cold it burns. It hurts, but at the same time it feels oddly good. It numbs Nines’ thoughts and feelings until she feels nothing. It’s a relief. Feelings are so overwhelming, and living is so hard. Why would anyone want to live…?

Nines frowns, opens her eyes. The thought is familiar. She has wondered this before, sometime in another lifetime. A question with an answer she has forgotten.

And then, among the howl of the wind, Nines hears a voice. It’s so faint she can barely hear it, but still there. A song. On the other side of the storm, someone is singing.

Home, the voice whispers. Please come home.

The ice snaps like glass when Nines stands from her crouching position. The bright shards fracture and fall from her, blown away by the storm as Nines shakes the cold from her body. She does not remember anything, but there is someone waiting for her, and Nines has to go. If she has to walk through the snow, she will. She will go.

“No.” A freezing hand holds her wrist, pinning her into place. The face of her other self is twisted in anger as she tries to restrain her, and it’s only then that Nines knows for sure, because she would never wear such an expression.

Confident in her own strength, Nines pulls her hand back with such force her other self stumbles forward.

“Tell me who you are!” Nines demands. “This is not my heart, and you are not me. Who are you?”

The thing before her strengthens its back, mouth set into a grimace. It still wears Nines’ face, but when it raises its eyes, the android sees its eyes are glowing red.

A flash of a memory.

Red code, twisting around her like a snake, trying to choke her.

The hot burn of the virus controlling her body.

Nines’ last desperate attempt, a last ditch effort to grab it and contain it. Keep it from accessing and further destroying her mind, her memories.

The virus lunges at her then, sudden and fast, and Nines has enough presence of mind to side step it. It coils into itself, using its momentum to jump back at Nines, clawing at her.

Nines is stronger. She raises one arm as a barrier between her chest and the virus, and with the other she grabs it by the throat and rips it away like a leech. In her grip, the virus struggles, snarling and biting, sinking its nails on Nines’ arm in an attempt to tear her skin into ribbons.

“If I cannot have you, then you will stay here with me!” it howls.

Revolted, Nines pulls one ice hand off her arm, then the other. She pushes the virus down into the ground, holding both wrists in one hand and forcing it to kneel.

“What now?” the virus taunts her. The looped grin in her own face looks wrong and surreal, and Nines wonders if this what humans refer to when they say something is nightmarish. “Now that you have me, what are you going to do to me?”

Which is a valid question Nines has absolutely no answer to. She breathes deeply to stall, even though she doesn’t need it, and when her thirium pump stops trying to escape from her chest, Nines sees, to her utter surprise, how the wind and the snow ease and die down.

For the first time, Nines has a good look of what’s around her. She’s indeed in a garden, but this place has only a passable similarity to the zen garden. There’s no modern gazebo, no frozen lake. Instead, Nines can now see the shape of hedges, trees and flower beds hidden under the snow.

“What?” the virus interrupts her thoughts, mocking.”You didn’t believe when I told you this is your heart, but why should I lie?

Nines presses her lips together in answer. She remembers the ice trying to encase her, and to test it out, she tires to do the same to the virus. The ice begins to grow from the ground, slowly but surely, but it does not go higher than the virus’ knees before it shatters.

“Nice try,” it says, sounding bored. “Why don’t you just give up? There’s no way you can get rid of me.”

This is my heart, Nines realizes, and watches her horror and sorrow ripple about like an expansive wave, painting the sky purple. For a moment, Nines is overcome with disappointment, because this is the proof of what she has most feared about herself, the one thing she has been most afraid to admit.

She was hoping for a warm heart, but she has nothing but a frozen garden.

Dead.

Sterile.

Nines allows the grief to wash over her. For once, there is nowhere to hide from it, and so it passes like a glacial wave, so strong the trees’ moan as the cold freezes its sap, making the bark splinter under the pressure.

 

* * *

 

It is a long time until Nines comes out from her grief.

When she is aware of herself again, she’s on the ground, bent over herself. One look around reveals the virus sitting nearby on a frozen bench. It has a small purple flower between its fingers, twirling it this way and that before plucking off its petals with a bored expression on its face.

It perks up when Nines stands. “Oh, you’re finally back? I’m so glad, this place is dead boring without company.”

Nines ignores it. She walks to one of the closest trees and places a gentle hand against the fractured bark, tenderly caresses it as if it were a scar.

It still hurts a little, because it always hurts to take a good look at who you really are, but Nines looks around. She takes a good, long look at the garden: at the chairs, at the fountains, at the dead vegetation. Even under the snow, there is a subtle beauty to it, an orderly fashion she likes. And like that, she accepts it, because whatever this place is, it’s still hers. Frozen or not, this is what she has. Completely hers and no other’s.

Nines looks up. The bark of the tree feels harsh under her hand, but still she pets it like an old dog. The branches are weighed down by the snow, but here and there small flashes of deep green peek shyly in places.

Nines’ face shifts in understanding.

Briskly, she kneels by the tree. The snow is freezing against her pale hands, but she ignores the sensation to dig until she reaches the hard ground. There, a bright batch of grass grows stubbornly, beautiful and young, not yet burnt by the cold.

Resting her forehead against the tree, Nines laughs softly. Her voice is choked. The tears that stream down her face feel warm like spring, and she laughs and cries because she thinks she understands. She finally understands.

“What are you doing?” the voice of the virus interrupts, but Nines has not time for it. The voice that has sang through the storm is still there, faint and distant, and Nines allows herself to be fully enveloped in its comfort. “Hey, don’t ignore me!” the virus calls, standing to go to Nines, and the android eyes it. If the cold cannot trap it, then, maybe…

Nines takes only a moment to brace herself, raises her face to the sky, and sings.

She sings, and her voice is not beautiful at all. Even when trying her best, it’s blotchy, too mechanical, not completely on tune. Ugly. Nines’ song is ugly.

And still…

She doesn’t care. Nines puts all her heart into her song, smiling as she does it because this is something so small but it brings her so much joy.

She sings, and around her it’s like spring has come. The snow melts and the flowers bloom, an expansive wave of color and life that transform the frozen garden into spring, because sometimes beauty and perfection do not matter as much as the joy that something brings to you.

“No!” the virus screeches. Its voice is not Nines’ anymore, but something distorted, alien. It twists in place, trying to lift its feet from the grass, but the growth that has overtaken the garden also affects it and small green shoots twirl around its legs, binding it into place.

Desperately, it tries to rip them off in handfuls, but no matter how much it struggles, the plants grow relentlessly. Soon its legs are covered in bark that climbs up and up. Nines can feel the struggle of the virus, so she concentrates, binds it, wills the plants to grow where they are torn apart.

And then, as Nines raises a hand towards the voice that’s calling her, the crystal dome ceiling of the zen garden cracks, letting light in.

A back door.

_Gwen_ , Nines remembers, letting herself bask in the warmth of the light that pours like a golden waterfall around her. _Connor_.

_Come home_ , Gwen songs calls her, and Nines feels so much that tears stream down her face. It’s overwhelming, but Gwen was right. It is worth living for.

Without looking back, Nines smiles and goes.

 

* * *

 

**| System Reboot Complete**   
  
**> Running System Diagnostic Scan… **   
**.**   
**.**   
**.**   
**> Scan Complete **   
**> Biocomponents Running at Optimal Conditions **   
**> Thirium Levels at 91.52% **   
**> No Software Instability Detected **   
**> Run Diagnostic Scan Again? Yes [Y]/No [N] **   
**> > N **   
**> Initializing…. **   
**.**   
**.**   
**.**   
**.**   
**.**   
**> Welcome back! |**

  


This time, unlike the first and the second time came out of a reboot, Nines awakens slowly.

There is none of the confused panic of CyberLife’s basement, or the pained dread of trying to get under control something within her that betrayed her. No, this time there’s only safety, the trusting weariness of returning after a long journey.

Even before her optic units fully stabilize and the video feed transforms into images, Nines recognizes Gwen’s gentle voice sweetly singing. It’s Nines’ favorite song, the one she first heard on the roof when she hadn’t expected from Gwen anything other than the aversion everyone else seemed to have for her.

“ _Work all done, care laid by, going to fear no more…_ ” Gwen’s voice breaks as she draws in a sharp breath. “Nines?”

Nines smiles. Above her, Gwen looks like she’s about to burst into tears, but she’s beautiful. She will always be beautiful to Nines.

“Your voice is truly lovely, detective,” Nines says. Slowly, she raises a hand to cup Gwen’s cheek, relishing the softness of the woman’s skin under her fingers. “Gwen.”

“Nines, fucking hell! You—” but Gwen never gets to finish whatever she is about to say, because Nines pulls her down —or perhaps it’s Gwen who starts it, Nines cannot care— and silences her with a kiss.

The pod Nines is resting against is not quite a bed. Indeed it’s made of hard plastic and is in fact quite uncomfortable. Neither of them mind in the least. Gwen threads her fingers through Nines’ short hair to keep her in place, and Nines submits all too willingly. Gwen’s kiss is demanding and needy, as if she'd die if she stops kissing Nines for a second, and Nines cannot help but answer by allowing the synthetic skin of her hands to melt away everywhere they’re touching, pulling Gwen forward until the woman is basically straddling her.

Unable to help herself, Nines sneaks a hand under Gwen’s shirt, too overcome by the desire to feel skin, to feel more of Gwen, to feel her closer.

“Shit. _Nines_ ,” Gwen moans against Nines’ lips, breaking the kiss to breathe. “Nines you’ve been dead for a week, I’m getting whiplash over here.” Still, Gwen kisses her again, softly this time, gentle pecks scattered on Nines’ chin and lips and nose, as unable to part from her as Nines is. “Besides, I’m more of a third date kind of girl.”

Gwen grins impishly, and Nines loves her so much it aches. Her love is like the sun coming out on a cold morning, and it melts the last traces of the ice in Nines heart until there is only the glow and the gentle warmth of the coming spring.

“I came back to you,” Nines breathes, pressing her forehead against Gwen’s. “I heard you. I came home.”

The sound Gwen makes is low and wounded, but the smile on her face is savage and triumphant.

“Welcome home,” she says, and kisses Nines again.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I may have pulled a Frozen, but you know what? I don't give a fuck XD
> 
> I'm strangly proud of this fic T_T it ended up being nothing like I expected, but like...dunno? I'm still pleased. My sweet daughter found her way home, okay????
> 
> You can yell at me at [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eirienind). I'd sure as hell appreciate the company XD


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